In my dream last night, I was in front of a mirror. I couldn't see my head or my feet, but I saw the white shirt I had on, sort of a Gibson Girl touch to it, more so as I put a thin belt on at my waist, creating a peplum. I had under the peplum a white skirt, with a eyelet underskirt--or was it the other way around? My hands were thin, making my fingers look long, and for what I could see of my legs, they looked thin too, as I had after I got out of college the second time.
And I woke up to the body I have now. The bathroom scale was not friendly to me today, nor was the one at the veterinarian's office, when I took the cat there to have his claws trimmed.
I put off the walk, with one excuse and another, until--fine! I'll go!--and went off to Miller's Landing at three thirty. There were six cars there already, and four of the cars had people sitting in them, reading the newspaper or their cell phones. There was one more car, and that one was that of an apparently homeless woman who frequents the parks I work at. She has a library on her front dash, including "Good News for Modern Man." She had a sun screen on the windshield, and was sleeping in the driver's seat.
There were a dozen kayakers in and around the water, but few other people in the area.
I stomped through my loop, and back to the car, wondering if there was going to be any more progress and how consistent did "consistent" have to be, anyway, to have any results or to be ready to go back to work, where there seemed to be so little progress.
About an hour after I got home, I could feel the front of my thighs "burning" from the walk.
Flag bridge in Old Mill, where I cross to get to the other side.
"The footbridge at the Old Mill District is a great location to admire the vista of the river. (Photo: William Sullivan / Special to the Statesman Journal,"
And I woke up to the body I have now. The bathroom scale was not friendly to me today, nor was the one at the veterinarian's office, when I took the cat there to have his claws trimmed.
I put off the walk, with one excuse and another, until--fine! I'll go!--and went off to Miller's Landing at three thirty. There were six cars there already, and four of the cars had people sitting in them, reading the newspaper or their cell phones. There was one more car, and that one was that of an apparently homeless woman who frequents the parks I work at. She has a library on her front dash, including "Good News for Modern Man." She had a sun screen on the windshield, and was sleeping in the driver's seat.
There were a dozen kayakers in and around the water, but few other people in the area.
I stomped through my loop, and back to the car, wondering if there was going to be any more progress and how consistent did "consistent" have to be, anyway, to have any results or to be ready to go back to work, where there seemed to be so little progress.
About an hour after I got home, I could feel the front of my thighs "burning" from the walk.
Flag bridge in Old Mill, where I cross to get to the other side.
"The footbridge at the Old Mill District is a great location to admire the vista of the river. (Photo: William Sullivan / Special to the Statesman Journal,"
No comments:
Post a Comment