Walks With Dawn

walking shoes

Walks With Dawn

By Jeanne Piraino Sigler | published July 11, 2013 |
Thursday Review Contributing Writer

The summer has arrived. After taking my swimsuit out of the “warm weather clothing collection” and trying it on for size, I decided it was definitely a good time to get in shape, or at least make a valiant attempt.

I started my fresh regime by ridding the house of anything even remotely resembling chocolate. Next, I donned my walking shoes and called on my good friend and neighbor Dawn to join me in a refreshing daily ritual. She was more than happy to comply.

Setting out on Day One was the real test of my stamina and stick-to-ativeness. “This is the route I like to take,” blurted Dawn, clearly taking charge of this activity. “We’ll start uphill so that it will be easier coming back,” she added. “Right.” I responded, through gasping breaths.

“I’m not going too fast for you, am I?” she asked. “No (wheeze). I’m fine, really (huff puff).” I answered. At least one ambulance stretcher length ahead, Dawn took the lead like Bear Bryant preparing his team for the Iron Bowl. There was no turning back now. Last winter’s calories are on their way out and Dawn would be the one to help me show them the door.

That evening I felt as if I’d run the New York Marathon. “You okay?” asked my concerned husband. Hmm, good opportunity to pour on the pity, I thought. “Uh-huh.” I replied in a weak tone. “I know what you need,” said Michael.

Stretched out on the sofa, I silently prayed for a little relief. Just then, Michael came towards me with a tube of lavender foot lotion and proceeded to rub away the day’s aches and pains. Cracking a smile of great satisfaction, I uttered to my beloved other half, “I could get used to this.”

It’s been over a week now and we’ve been faithful to our task. I know I can always rely on Dawn to be there, encouraging me to keep up the pace. And despite my twinging arches, I’ve grown even more determined to walk again the next day and the day after, ad infinitum until I achieve my goal.

Now, if only I could convince my husband that this foot massage thing needs to be a regular daily event, we’d really be on to something.