It wasn't a foot race, but...

This is about as athletic as I ever got,
standing in front of a picture of Shaq in Miami.
Most other photos of me include food.

I wish I had timed my walk today. I don't know why I find it necessary to walk so fast, instead of stopping to smell the roses.
However, today I had walked 2520 steps by the time I got home. Some of those steps, admittedly, were inside the house...getting dressed, taking a basket of clothes to the laundry room...that sort of thing, no biggie.
But...2520 steps is 1.07 miles.
A mile and then some. Who knew?
Today, instead of walking down the street until I'd passed the ice rink, I walked to and then all the way around the ice rink. Yes, I did...the shortest way possible, close to the building. Shorter but not easier, because it was gravel, not pavement. Next time I'll take the sidewalk all the way, farther or not.
Sigh.
And I walked fast...strolling lazily might be better for my poor diabetic-nerve-damaged feet, but I always think it's a speed walk, I don't know why.
And did I stop to rest as the doctor ordered? Nope, I forgot.

High Tea, at the original Cocoa Been Cafe.

Will I ever learn? Not likely, but hey...a new element was added to my racecourse today...I paid attention to how I walked. Ever since I fell in the spring (kapow! straight down to a sitting position on the floor, with my legs straight out in front of me) and then fell again a few weeks later, I have been walking toes-first and leaning forward.
So today I made a point of walking heels-first. My back thanked me, even if my feet didn't.
Stand up straight and tall, Kay. Heel-to-toe, heel-to-toe, I lecture myself. And it did help. My feet are sore but my back, with its compressed discs trying to heal, feels much better.
Live and learn, they say, and if I ever find out who 'they' are, I might even thank them.