Skipping the morning walk on a scorching Saturday

This morning I skipped my daily walk. I didn’t skip instead of walk, I didn’t walk at all as I have been walking every morning all week. It could be that today is hotter than it’s been, but in the morning, it’s not so hot, so, that’s a lame excuse. And I didn’t skip the morning walk because I’m lame.

Zamboni, our chocolate Labrador Retriever, and I took his short morning walk. It’s short in distance but not in time. He turns ten in a few days and for him, a short distance is a now a long walk. It’s after I return him to the house and settle him in that I then embark on my own long walk over a long distance. 

For me, it’s a long distance and a long walk, but for runners, I’d say the distance is barely a warm-up to the time they might approach what’s called a runner’s high. I have nothing like a runner’s high when I walk. I do zone out, solve all the world’s problems and a few of my own.

It seems the longer I walk the stranger my thoughts become. I wonder of the song playing in my headset, “has this song just played? When did it start? Oh, I haven’t heard this song in ages.”

Rarely do I see the same people walking when I am out and about. Sometimes we exchange a nod, sometimes they simply stare ahead as if I wasn’t there. Whenever I am out and pass someone walking a dog, I always pause and say to the canine, “hi, sweetheart!” in that annoying condescending voice people reserve for stranger’s dogs.

Lately I’ve taken to walking in the street where the traffic is light. The streets around my home are much more even than the sidewalks, and there are no curbs to climb up and down. Occasionally, a car will come close enough for me to feel the breeze.

Other times, people slow down and wave at me. Between tinted windows, sun glare and not wearing my glasses I’m never quite sure if it is someone swearing at me for walking in the street. Is it someone I know, a fan, perhaps? Should I be waving back?

I choose to prefer it is someone who knows me. Or someone who thinks he knows me. As a local writer, I harbor the notion that I’m almost famous. But the fact is, I’m most often mistaken for a former Nutley assemblyman or one of his brothers. People have had whole conversations with me and ended with, “and say hello to your brother Fred for me.” Fred may have brothers, but I do not.

While walking I see runners eke their path past me. I choose to save my running for when someone is chasing me. In fact, running has skipped my generation in my family. The last time I ran was on the playing fields behind Soho Hospital in Belleville. That’s about 40 years ago.

My daughter runs. She runs short races and half-marathons. I walk around the block and meet her in the bar afterwards. She is very serious about running, eating right and working out. My doctor told me to walk three hours a week. He didn’t say anything about walking on weekends.

As for me, this morning I skipped my daily walk, and, instead retreated to this air-conditioned comfort to make my confession in on this hopeless little screen. Maybe when the weather cools off, I’ll see you around. Don’t forget to wave.

About:  New Jersey author ANTHONY BUCCINO published sixteen books. His latest books are Greetings From Belleville, New Jersey – Collected Writings, and Belleville and Nutley in the Civil War – a Brief History.  His Belleville-Nutley Patch stories of the 1960s earned a SPJ-NJ 2011 Excellence in Journalism award. He has been called ' “New Jersey’s ‘Garrison Keillor” or something to that effect.’ For more information, www.anthonybuccino.com

Copyright © 2012 by Anthony Buccino – used by permission.