Power walking


So I met this old man on my street a few weeks ago who told me about his “power walking” adventures and how he was 82 years old and the best shape of his life.

As I listened to his incredible stories, I started to imagine myself power walking. Blissfully taking a stroll (a fast stroll) through the woods or by the beach. Feeling the breeze on my face and wind in my hair.
Power walking was the answer to all my exercise woes. It was going to be magical. Just me, my feet and my little dogs.
(Regular readers can probably tell where this is going).

So I took Houdini out for a walk at lunchtime and I met my “old man friend” (here in referred to as OMF) and he asked if I wanted to join him for a leisurely stroll through the posh part of town wink emoticon
I was already in my sweat pants and hoodie so was ready to kick some power walking ass.
Lovely stroll along Victorian streets watching flowers in the garden and children walk on by. Me with my little dog at my side. What could go wrong? EVERYTHING

It was about here that OMF told me he was meeting his buddies at the church. In my imagination this transferred to other old men (maybe with canes) joining us for our blissful adventure. I was wrong. Very wrong.

We turned up at the church and met 4 of the best in shape men I have ever seen in my life!! These men were ripped like body builders, tall like bloody towers and smelt amazing (Old Spice? Or another old man fragrance)……..they also had a combined age of 954 between them!
I was totally crushing on super old men. It felt so wrong, but also so right.

So we started off on what the men described as a “gentle stroll” which I would have more accurately described as SAS bootcamp training!!!!
We went up hills and down hills at such a speed that at one point I had to do that half running/half walking thing (you know the one when you really need the loo and just got outside your house) just to keep up with the pack (I guess a more accurate description would be “group” however these guys clearly weren’t human).

It was about then that OMF started checking in with me to see if I was “ok” (I clearly wasn’t). I blamed Houdini and his little legs for dragging me behind the rest of the guys (I am so sorry Houdini, I have sinned against you). I then did the “oh I went to spin class last night and kinda tired” bs excuse. They could not comprehend the idea of paying someone to ride a bicycle, while indoors, but looking at videos of being outside, while in a dark room. As much as I protested that “spinning” was a legit form of exercise, I don’t think they were convinced. In fact, it was about here that I realized I am really not as smart as I think I am!

We must have looked such a sight. There’s me, a middle aged white girl who can’t even walk properly with men 3 times her age. I felt so inadequate.
It was the sudden realization that if these men could survive a war, there was no way I would be able to keep up with them. They may have all been in their 80’s but I had to admit defeat and gracefully depart ways. I formulated an escape plan.

This next moment I am not proud of. This is the moment I call regret/survival……This is the moment I faked a phone call with an “emergency”!!!!!!
God I know, I am an awful person. I just lied to a bunch of 80 year old men that I had a phone call and I am surely going to hell. I am pretty sure none of them had an iPhone (or knew how to use one), but I am sure the tell tale sign of the phone NOT ringing may have given me away.

I said thanks to them all and then quickly (well as quickly as I could) went round the corner where I found a wall and sat outside someone’s house for 15 minutes in order to recover from the walking.

It took me 20 minutes to walk up my road the entire time coaxing Houdini to drag me.
I feel so dirty


Exercise 3
Kim 0

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