Category: walking

Posted in Life, walking

Intense walking and talking

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Image by Susanne from Pixabay

Every morning as I’m walking my dog, I pass a woman walking her dog. She’s memorable because she zig-zags down the street. She walks from one side to the other, effectively doubling the distance they walk each day. She’s also talking to someone every morning through her AirPods.

It’s dark at this time of the year when we pass each other at 6:30 in the morning. My Great Dane shows no interest in her Schnauzer-ish dog, and he’s not interested in us, either. But she always says, “Good morning” to me. I always reply, but she doesn’t always hear me, because someone else’s voice is in her ear. So she’ll turn up the volume and repeat, “Good morning,” and I’ll repeat my reply.

Who does she talk to every morning? I picture someone else, a sister or child walking their dog at the same time, catching up on whatever happened since yesterday. I imagine it to be someone in Eastern Standard Time, since everyone else would still be asleep. But maybe it’s a friend in Europe, where it’s at least six hours later.

By the tone of her voice, it’s intense. A serious conversation. No nonsense. Almost aggressive.

I talk to God and the big dog when I walk. My words are upbeat, light-hearted, and at times, silly. (When you’re talking to a goofy Great Dane, it’s easy to be silly.) I have never had an early morning phone conversation. I don’t know who I’d call. All my friends are still sensibly sleeping at that time of the day.

Posted in neighbor, neighborhood, walking

What will it be: a new route or the same old streets?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Purple pumpkins? I never noticed those before.

When I take my Great Dane out for a walk in the morning, we have a choice. We can walk the usual two-and-a-half mile loop around our neighborhood, or we can explore some rarely walked cross streets. Regardless of which I choose, there’s much to notice.

If we take the longer route, I notice those things that have changed. Curbside trash announces a remodeling project. Seasonal holiday decorations appear each week. “For Sale” signs appear overnight. A carefully balanced pile of shingles precedes the arrival of roofers. That must a have been a great party in front of the vacant lot filled with beer cans and food wrappers. Out-of-state license plates reveal who’s got company. We know where every dog lives along this route.

On the other hand, if we zig-zag through some of the cross streets, we’ve got a new collection of houses, cars, and yards to notice. I see an older home with a one-car garage. There’s a driveway with two antique cars. Folks who just moved in have a mountain of cardboard boxes stacked up at the end of the driveway. I can see the backs of the houses I frequently pass on the longer route. The barks of dogs inside these houses sound unfamiliar.

No matter which route or direction I choose, I will notice something interesting to take a picture of and write about. I will notice something fascinating about a home I walked by a hundred times or the first time. I will hear cars, dogs, music, air conditioning units, children, birds, and sprinklers. Some I expect. Some surprise me.

Posted in dogs, running, walking

Don’t worry about me. Just go.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alex Radelich on Unsplash

She stopped right in the middle of the road.

I shouted, “What are you doing?” I actually shouted that to the Great Dane who was, for once, obediently sitting next to me. We were just waiting for the traffic to pass so we could cross the street and continue our walk.

But this lady decided to stop. Right in the middle of the road. Right in the middle of a busy street.

Okay, let me explain. I’m a city boy. I grew up in suburban Philadelphia. You don’t walk out in front of traffic. Not if you don’t want to die. But here in Florida, people do it all the time. I know, pedestrians have the right of way. But that’s assuming pedestrians have looked both ways to see if any cars are coming.

The rules are different in Florida. I blame Walmart. In front of their store, cars have to stop for people walking through the striped areas of the parking lot. I watch many walk out without a glance for oncoming cars. I’m not so brave. I wait. I let them go. I don’t trust them. (I don’t trust anyone.) I’m not going to walk in front of any car, assuming it will stop for me.

So we are out for our morning walk. The Great Dane and I have crossed to the middle island of the four lane parkway that runs north and south through our city. She is doing well today. She sits next to me as we wait for the traffic to pass. I am ready to say, “Heel,” as the last car in a pack goes by. But the car slows and comes to a stop. Really? Just like that, when other cars are zipping by?

I’m not falling for that. We’re staying put. I simply look away, as if I don’t notice them at all. I’ll wait. I’ve got all day. Finally, they drive off, and we can cross the road.

I’ve had this problem running, too. I am pacing myself, waiting for a car to pass, and they slow down or stop. They think they are doing me a favor. I chuckle, and run around behind them. Just drive your car. Don’t worry about me. Just go.

I’ve run and biked enough miles that I know how to avoid people who aren’t paying attention, couldn’t care less, and probably shouldn’;t be driving anyway. You live longer when you’ve got some situational awareness and don’t trust anyone.