I had a good walk this morning. I’m still feeling sore and worrying that I am pushing myself too hard, but I’m committed to giving myself a week of this and seeing if my body can adjust. If, in a week, my joints are locked up and throbbing, then I will cut back but it’s just a walk, a little over two miles a day, and that doesn’t seem like too much to ask from myself.
It’s been nice to get to know my neighborhood in a way I haven’t in all the years I’ve been living here. I’ve walked these same sidewalks before, but to do it day after day, to watch the tress, the lawns, the people, move from one season into another, to experience it in this pandemic where we are all so much more connected with those around us even if we have to keep our distance. I’m seeing it all, even house, intersection, and person, with fresh eyes and understanding.
I’d like to keep this up after I return to work, but I’m not sure what that will look like. I will have to walk earlier, or much, much later. I hope my wife will still go with me too. Of all the things I, we, have been able to do these past months, this is the one thing I want to hold on to.
The rain has been rolling in and out all day and taking my energy and focus in and out with it. I haven’t been able to work on the drafts I started yesterday, but I’m not pushing myself too hard right now, anyway. These are my last days that will belong to me fully for a very long time, if ever again. Yes, I will have weekends always, but even they are rushed and filled with worry and preparation for the workweek.
One thing I have learned during this time is how much of my time and how many of my decisions belong to or are because of work. The truth is nearly all of it was and I have a job that is very clearly separate from my home life. I have a job I can’t take home, so it must be so much worse for others.
These next few days will have no expectations or obligations imposed and going forward there will be, there have to be more days like them.