Apparently, I Am a Walker Now

Three weeks ago, I started walking every morning. I’m not exactly sure what possessed me to do this, but I have discovered something completely unexpected—I actually enjoy it.

I started out with a quarter of a mile, because apparently I had no intention of overachieving. But it didn’t take long before I worked my way up to two miles a day. It takes me about 40 minutes, and by the time I get home, I need a shower!

There are quite a few people in my neighborhood who walk, especially on the weekends, so I’ve started getting to know the regulars. Well… “getting to know” may be a little generous. I know them in the way you know people you pass every morning but have never actually introduced yourself to.

I have the Hawaiian man who rides his bike while he sings. I don’t know what he is singing, but he seems very happy about it, and honestly, I respect that.

I have also made friends with several dogs, a few cats and even a rabbit. Although, I’m pretty sure the rabbit wasn’t interested in friendship. He hopped in a deep bush and turned to look at me. So I guess that friendship is still pending.

There are two older couples who walk together, and then there’s a Vietnamese couple. She walks ahead of him and he spends most of the time playing catch-up. And I’m not saying he walks slow, but she doesn’t exactly walk fast. I’m beginning to think their morning walk is less of a stroll and more of a relationship exercise.

There’s also a woman who works out in her garage while her baby sits in a bouncer watching her. I admire that woman. She has figured out how to exercise while parenting, and that deserves some kind of award. Or at least a really good cup of coffee.

Then there is the man who runs through both neighborhoods. He wears all black and checks his watch constantly. I have no idea what he is timing, but I know where he lives and sometimes he runs. He looks serious about this running business.

There’s another lady who walks her dog, and they are both very serious about it. They walk perfectly straight, and that dog never looks my way. Not once. And let me tell you, that is one tight leash. That dog knows he has a job to do, and apparently his job is to ignore me.

We also have roofers all over the neighborhood. So now I have accidentally added “neighborhood nail patrol” to my morning routine. Anytime I see a nail in the street or yard, I pick it up. I’m not sure when I became responsible for neighborhood construction debris, but here we are. The nails change location depending on which house is being roofed.

There is also one particular sidewalk that I’m convinced is where all the worms in Oklahoma go to live. It is always covered with worms. I don’t know why they all gather there, but apparently they have a meeting every morning. I just try not to step on anybody.

And then there is a sidewalk that looks like they poured the concrete right in the middle of a downpour. It is covered in little dents and divots, like the world’s worst case of cellulite. I’m pretty sure that sidewalk is self-conscious.

Also, there is an etiquette to walking that I never knew existed. If I see someone coming, I give up the curb. But if they see me coming, they do the same thing. So then we have this awkward little sidewalk dance where two people are trying to be polite while silently deciding who gets the good side.

The main thing I’ve learned is that I really like walking before it gets too hot. Very important when you live in Oklahoma and would prefer not to suffer heat stroke before breakfast. So far, I’ve managed to get my walk in every morning, even in the middle of moving. And honestly, I’m pretty proud of myself.

I also take solace in having other people out walking when I am. Somehow, seeing strangers along my route makes me feel safer. I guess there’s comfort in knowing I’m not the only person out there. Of course, I also carry my pepper spray and have an alarm, just in case somebody decides my morning walk needs an unexpected plot twist.

At this point, I have my route, I know where the worms live, I know which dogs will acknowledge me and which ones apparently have no interest in socializing, and I know who is going to be out walking.

I’m sure the neighborhood walkers have noticed me by now too. I wonder what they call me. Probably something like, “There’s that sweaty lady again.” And honestly, I’m okay with that.