Eight weeks. That is my streak. I have walked every day, apart from the few days I went to Virginia for EB’s wedding, for eight weeks or 70 days. 70 sounds better than 8, right? Being 40 and slightly overweight, I have needed it, and it feels good. Physically and mentally.
I really needed to go today. My son was freaking out over a broken phone. He is 13. I really wanted to order a Fitbit for my walks. Yeah, he is 13. My daughter was yelling at her brother because he, while looking for his broken phone, pulled out all of the hidden clutter under her bed in the room she was supposed to be cleaning. My youngest was screaming because, well, I really do not know why. Perhaps, she was feeling left out of the chorus of chaos. I could not get out of the door fast enough.
I have a routine. Routines are good, especially for me. I clear my head, listen to an audiobook or music, and hit the reset button. I like my walks. My routine includes my route. 2.5 miles west on Highway 37 and 2.5 miles back. It is a good routine. I can walk 2.5 miles and be stranded, or I can walk 5 miles and make it back home. Life hack.
Today, I decided to go beyond my boundary, the intersection of Highway 37 and Highway 900. I crossed over into uncharted territory for this pedestrian. Sunglasses on, Airpods in, and Alexander Hamilton by Ron…
