Walkabout—after the storm

We’ve all heard the scientific explanation of why the air is so fine following a storm, washed clean of pollen and charged with friendly ions. But that doesn’t detract from the wonder of it each time you step into a day as glorious as these last two here in Florida.

The crispness calls to mind an early fall day in the northeast, rare here even in winter. Devoid of humidity, the air sparkles, truly reflecting natures colors.

A perfect day for a neighborhood walk. Or perhaps a stroll through the downtown farme’s market—a cornucopia of entrepreneurial creativity, populated by folks and their fashionista small dogs.

T’is a grand day to be alive and walking…

Walkabout: the long Passover walk

I probably should have called this A long Passover walk, because as we know, the original après Seder stroll was one for the record books. But they didn’t have record books back then either, eh? Oh well, whatever…

One could call it the mother of all fitness walks. (Sorry, couldn’t help it.)

In honor of the holiday of my ancient ancestors I “took the long way home” by extending my own walk on Lido Beach. It seemed especially fitting to feel the sand give way under my feet—although the Hebrews didn’t have the benefit of my Orthaheel shoes as they trod the desert for 40 years.

As I walk, I flash back to the Passovers of my youth, at my grandparent’s house in Brooklyn. After dinner, slightly drunk on Manischewitz my older cousins Bobby and Barry would let me tag along with them for a walk along the dark, silent city streets. I seem to recall ending up at Ebbets Field.

Time may march on, but the longing for “home” not only remains, but grows stronger with the years. This much I know.

Walkabout: a post diner stroll

Last night I finally made it out in the evening, after downing one too many yummy organic grilled cheeseburgers and veggies. At 7 p.m. under a mellowing sky and a slightly cool breeze I headed out.

My destination? The local CVS to drop off a prescription. The mile-long walk took me down a back street, past several other small condo complexes through a long, narrow stretch of land called Turtle Park. It’s obvious it was once meant to be a thru street that was put to a higher use.

Sarasota does the park thang really well. When I first moved here a decade ago, I used to walk it daily. Since then, the sophisticated mix of trees planted along the graceful curving walkway has matured from saplings, providing much needed shade from the Florida sun. There is the ever present water fountain, benches and even a large leatherback turtle sculpture.

As I strolled, I flashed back to those early walks. I was so desperately homesick, with the sinking feeling I had made a huge mistake in leaving the Jersey Shore. I had taken the boardwalks for granted. The cement was unyielding beneath my feet. So I would get into a rhythm, allow my eyes to flutter almost closed, and will myself back to the Shore. I could feel the boards give under my strides and smell the sea.

My goal is to integrate walking into my life. Last month, I would have hopped into the cat without thinking. Now, I think before I drive: Is there some way to “walk this out.”

It may be a small step …but it’s one in the right direction. And that’s not a small thing.

Walkabout: back to the beach

An early start to this day off and I finally made it back to the beach for my first “ambassadorial” stroll on the sand. I really have to make peace with being morning person at this stage of my life. That’s when my mental and physical energy is at its zenith. The hard truth is, regardless of the long Florida days when I put it off it never gets done.

Living on the west coast of Florida, we are famous for our sunsets. Each evening, crowds gather at along the Gulf to watch the sun sink into the sea. Urged on by others, I made such forays and walked the beach as the sky kissed the earth goodnight. And I came away unfulfilled.

I am a sunrise person. Back “home” along the (real) Jersey Shore, the sun rises out of a grey Atlantic, lighting up a fresh clean new day, alive with possibilities. And the boardwalks provide the perfect walking/running surface. Ah, my homesickness is showing. Well, soon enough I will be back for a long while. But that’s a story for another day.

But I digress. Back to the beach.

I rarely walk the sand in shoes. It’s either barefoot or my Orthaheel flips. Again, these extraordinary walking shoes surprised me. I stuck to the compact sand far from the water and it was a joy. These featherweight shoes walked the edge of being super comfy and responsive to the uneven terrain.

I fear I will never be satisfied with any other shoe.

I can live with that.

Walkabout…

Since the official start of this program, my inbox has been overwhelmed with chirpy reports from fellow “ambassadors” that start something like: Wow, what a great start to my day! After Zumba I walked (2,4,6) miles..

That’s not me, folks.

Been there, done that, as is said. Over the decades I have begun one “fitness” program after another—from running, to step class, Pilates, treadmill, elliptical, swimming et al. And yes, of course I walked…and walked. Being lucky enough to live at the Jersey Shore, I took full advantage of the boardwalks. When I moved to Florida 10 years ago, I even strapped a pricy pedometer to my body as I strode about town.

I started to enjoy walking when I stopped measuring and turned my attention to the surroundings…the people, the landscape, the stores, the sand, surf and sky.

Perhaps I should call what I’m doing a “strollabout. My goal is simply to integrate walking into my daily activities. Easier said than done. Walking to the store is easy enough, but how the heck do I carry the stuff home. I am working on it though.

Although I am still hacking away from this virus that won’t quit, I intended to strap on me new shoes and head out for a short turn about the neighborhood after an early dinner. But an overwhelming craving for Chinese food got in the way.

What to do?

I called in the order (just chow mien, hold the rice, hold the noodles) and walked to the restaurant, only several blocks away. I took my time, enjoying the comfort of the shoes. As supported as my feet were, I could still feel the ground, a surprising sense of grounded connectivity.

I REALLY love these shoes—right outta the box.

Tomorrow: back to the beach, methinks.

The adventure continues.

Walkabout: day 3

I can hear you now: What happened to days 1& 2?

It’s like this. I’m kinda playing catch-up for a couple of reasons.

The first has to do with my shoes, which were delivered to an address on the other end of town. The kindly recipient brought them by a day ago.

The second is a wicked virus that has floored me for almost three weeks. I am struggling back but it’s too slow. So I have had to contend myself with wearing the shoes around the condo . However, tomorrow I intend to foray out into the neighborhood for a tour.

I will say I am so far very impressed by the shoes. They are extremely light and very attractive. Since I live in Florida, I can often avoid wearing closed shoes, so this is welcome news. It’s already quite warm and humid down here.

I look forward to long walks along the beach at sunset, as the sun disappears into the Gulf. I’m sure it will work wonders for more than just this ol’ bod...Stay tuned.

Unexpectedly free

If there ever was any doubt, today helps clinch the fact that I am certainly one weird duck.

So I oversleep this am to 6:30 and rush to make it in to work by 8, arriving only 3 minutes late. I punch in and dig in fast, only to be called over by my manager who asks if I have traded shifts with anyone. You guessed it, I wasn’t scheduled. I thought my day off was tomorrow.

So there I be, dressed, earings bra et al by 8 a.m. with no place to go. After a pit stop at a local Publix, I drop by Bed Bath etc. to purchase a new toaster—one which toasts on both sides simultaneously. I am unsuccessful.

By now it is 9:30. I head over to the local mall, an uncharacteristic move, only to find it doesn’t open until 10—this in the midst of a cutthroat holiday season. I hang out anyway, finally trolling the most upscale of shops, including Saks, trying to get into a festive mood.

Here I am, fresh from a bankruptcy, with what amounts to not much more than a minimum wage job, strolling through yards of merchandise well beyond my means. And here comes the strange part: It makes me feel better. It always has. I find being surrounded by abundance, seeing it, touching it and (in the case of Whole Foods, for example) smelling it calms me. It is somehow uplifting to know it’s out there. I’m not sure why.

I bought nothing but a short eggnog latte and sat reading on my nook for a while, as the din of shoppers around me slowing mounted.

I was there—but apart. And that’s fine.