Walking

I did it. When my lung congestion prevented me from weightlifting, I resorted to going for a walk. I traipsed around the pond to the north of my house, a walk of something less than two miles. The problem is that I walk with a slight limp. Some years ago, a surgeon botched knee replacement on my right leg so that I can’t completely straighten that leg. Walking, as a result, is something of an effort. I found that with my restricted breathing I was getting short of breath as I walked along. At length, I stopped for a minute or two until my breathing returned to normal.

Problems notwithstanding, the walk was a success. I’ll do it again.

I had forgotten the loveliness of the walk around the pond. Directly opposite my house on the northern edge of the pond is a park bench facing south toward my house. I sat there for a few minutes, basking in the sun and watching the mallards currently visiting the pond among the water reeds that now almost half fill it.

I am fortunate enough to live in a beautiful place.