I have been walking a lot recently, and while I walk, I sometimes think about walking.
We like to take a walk in the park, a walk on the beach or a walk around the shopping mall. Sometimes we take a walk of shame, and on better days we walk with our heads up high. We like to stroll, ramble, saunter or mosey along, moving from one point to another at a leisurely pace...unless of course you are out for a power walk, which is clearly NOT walking. In pirate times, unfortunate souls were forced to walk the plank.
The most common walk is the one down the aisle. We spend a huge amount of time, energy and money to make this 100-foot journey the most memorable walk of our lives. And yet for almost 50% of us, those few steps eventually lead to disappointment, bitter memories and divorce. Talk about a walk of shame, as in, "that statistic is a damn shame".
I wait tables, and thus I walk in tiny little circles for hours every day. I think there are many industries where this is the norm. But there are many other professions that require the employees to sit at a desk all day. Sadly, their primary walk every week is the hour at the grocery store. Ironic, and definitive for a nation of overweight people.
I have been thinking of all the walks of my life, and of course most of them are mundane and uneventful. I thought I would share a few that stand out to me. Maybe after reading, you will share a memorable walk in the Comment section below.
The first major walk that I can remember occurred when I was six years old in first grade. I missed the bus to school. I knew the way, just a few streets and a few turns, and if I could drive at that age I would have taken the car. I decided to walk. Unfortunately, my six year old legs did not carry me as quickly or as far as the big wheels on the bus, and eventually I found myself lost and tired, with a road stretching endlessly in front of me, and the tears started to fall. I must have been fairly loud, as moments later I was surrounded by worried housewives who collectively whisked me safely away to my destination. Tired...lost...crying...a road without end...saved by strangers...yes, I had taken my first camino journey.
My next incredible walk happened years later when I was unceremoniously dumped from a friend's car in the middle of the night. We had just left the bar, we were both tanked and an argument led to my dismissal. In downtown Newport News. My apartment was in Old Town Williamsburg, a distance of about 20 miles, a direct shot up Route 60. So I walked home. If I was drunk when I started, the long walk helped to sober me up, and I remember a sense of joy as the sun broke the horizon just as I approached the city limits of Williamsburg.
Leo and I's first date included a hike on the five mile Nolan Trail, a hike we had both experienced as single men, and a hike we have enjoyed as a couple ever since. Our years in the geocaching community exposed us to almost all of the parks in Hampton Roads, and we have spent many a Saturday afternoon on the trails in the area. When we travel, we avoid the subways and walk the streets, trying to absorb the sights and sounds of a different culture. His accident set us back for a time, but I think we are ready to once again walk together. The camino next year will be a test, and a testimony, to our commitment to move past that horrible day in 2011. I think Leo especially wants to reassure himself that he is not hindered from pursuing life at its fullest.
And finally I have to mention the walks with Zeus. Not that any one walk has been that special, but taken together, add up to a worthy mention. I adopted Zeus when he was about a year old, while Leo was on deployment in the Mediterranean. Zeus arrived at my house at 3:30 on a day I had to be at work at 5:00 for a ten hour shift. I knew Zeus had never been housebroken, and spent most of his first year either tied to a tree or locked in a shed. Sadly I put him in a long hallway and closed the doors at both ends before I left for work. When I arrived home, there was no accident to clean up, but the poor puppy had eaten the wall.
The next day I had another shift, so I put Zeus in my lap and had a talk with him. I told him he could have free reign of the house, but he couldn't have any accidents. In exchange, I would take him outside as often as possible. Zeus seemed to understand every word I said, and to this day he has never had an accident in the house. In fact, when we bought our house with the nice yard, Zeus put me in his lap and had a talk with me. He said backyard or no, he still wanted his walks. It was the original bargain, and I needed to fulfill the arrangement. And so to the mirth of our neighbors, Zeus continues to receive five walks a day, every day, rain or shine, 365 days a year. That is 25,000 walks in the last 14 years! Even if I only gave half of the walks, I have 12,000 under my belt.
And now I prepare for the camino next year. Five miles here or there. Ten on some days. Fifteen miles on other days. All in preparation for the 500 mile walk. I almost feel as if I have been training my entire life.
We like to take a walk in the park, a walk on the beach or a walk around the shopping mall. Sometimes we take a walk of shame, and on better days we walk with our heads up high. We like to stroll, ramble, saunter or mosey along, moving from one point to another at a leisurely pace...unless of course you are out for a power walk, which is clearly NOT walking. In pirate times, unfortunate souls were forced to walk the plank.
The most common walk is the one down the aisle. We spend a huge amount of time, energy and money to make this 100-foot journey the most memorable walk of our lives. And yet for almost 50% of us, those few steps eventually lead to disappointment, bitter memories and divorce. Talk about a walk of shame, as in, "that statistic is a damn shame".
I wait tables, and thus I walk in tiny little circles for hours every day. I think there are many industries where this is the norm. But there are many other professions that require the employees to sit at a desk all day. Sadly, their primary walk every week is the hour at the grocery store. Ironic, and definitive for a nation of overweight people.
I have been thinking of all the walks of my life, and of course most of them are mundane and uneventful. I thought I would share a few that stand out to me. Maybe after reading, you will share a memorable walk in the Comment section below.
The first major walk that I can remember occurred when I was six years old in first grade. I missed the bus to school. I knew the way, just a few streets and a few turns, and if I could drive at that age I would have taken the car. I decided to walk. Unfortunately, my six year old legs did not carry me as quickly or as far as the big wheels on the bus, and eventually I found myself lost and tired, with a road stretching endlessly in front of me, and the tears started to fall. I must have been fairly loud, as moments later I was surrounded by worried housewives who collectively whisked me safely away to my destination. Tired...lost...crying...a road without end...saved by strangers...yes, I had taken my first camino journey.
My next incredible walk happened years later when I was unceremoniously dumped from a friend's car in the middle of the night. We had just left the bar, we were both tanked and an argument led to my dismissal. In downtown Newport News. My apartment was in Old Town Williamsburg, a distance of about 20 miles, a direct shot up Route 60. So I walked home. If I was drunk when I started, the long walk helped to sober me up, and I remember a sense of joy as the sun broke the horizon just as I approached the city limits of Williamsburg.
Leo and I's first date included a hike on the five mile Nolan Trail, a hike we had both experienced as single men, and a hike we have enjoyed as a couple ever since. Our years in the geocaching community exposed us to almost all of the parks in Hampton Roads, and we have spent many a Saturday afternoon on the trails in the area. When we travel, we avoid the subways and walk the streets, trying to absorb the sights and sounds of a different culture. His accident set us back for a time, but I think we are ready to once again walk together. The camino next year will be a test, and a testimony, to our commitment to move past that horrible day in 2011. I think Leo especially wants to reassure himself that he is not hindered from pursuing life at its fullest.
And finally I have to mention the walks with Zeus. Not that any one walk has been that special, but taken together, add up to a worthy mention. I adopted Zeus when he was about a year old, while Leo was on deployment in the Mediterranean. Zeus arrived at my house at 3:30 on a day I had to be at work at 5:00 for a ten hour shift. I knew Zeus had never been housebroken, and spent most of his first year either tied to a tree or locked in a shed. Sadly I put him in a long hallway and closed the doors at both ends before I left for work. When I arrived home, there was no accident to clean up, but the poor puppy had eaten the wall.
The next day I had another shift, so I put Zeus in my lap and had a talk with him. I told him he could have free reign of the house, but he couldn't have any accidents. In exchange, I would take him outside as often as possible. Zeus seemed to understand every word I said, and to this day he has never had an accident in the house. In fact, when we bought our house with the nice yard, Zeus put me in his lap and had a talk with me. He said backyard or no, he still wanted his walks. It was the original bargain, and I needed to fulfill the arrangement. And so to the mirth of our neighbors, Zeus continues to receive five walks a day, every day, rain or shine, 365 days a year. That is 25,000 walks in the last 14 years! Even if I only gave half of the walks, I have 12,000 under my belt.
And now I prepare for the camino next year. Five miles here or there. Ten on some days. Fifteen miles on other days. All in preparation for the 500 mile walk. I almost feel as if I have been training my entire life.
