No, not a Monty Python silly walk. Wish it had been.
Background: I put the truck in for new brakes July 1. I am trying (not too hard) to sell it and upgrade to a newer, less-used used truck, but I figured that regardless of whether I sold it or kept it I had to do the repairs that would be necessary to keep it useful as a tow vehicle. The first step was brakes. The turbocharger repairs will come later.
The garage is about 6 miles from our summer home. When I dropped the truck off, at 8am on Wednesday morning, I got a ride home from brother-in-law Ray (thanks, Ray!). But I didn’t know when the truck would be done and couldn’t arrange a ride in advance. Phillipston may have taxi service – not sure about that – but it does, surprisingly, have bus service. I determined that it was very feasible to take a $1.25 bus ride to fetch the truck with only relatively short – less than half a mile – walks at either end.
The “truck is ready” call came at 3pm Thursday. A quick check of the bus schedule revealed that the next bus would arrive at 4:25pm which would get me to the garage before its 5pm closing time, but just barely. I had been sedentary for two days and was itching for some exercise. A quick mental calculation convinced me that I could walk the 6 miles and arrive, with greater certainty, at about the same time as the bus option. How hard could it be to walk 6 miles? I needed the exercise!
So on with the sneakers, grab a bottle of water and a baseball cap (hot day – upper 80s) and off I went. Briskly. The target pace was 4 mph.
Which I did for the first 4 miles. I even cut a few minutes off my projected arrival time. My right hip ached for a bit, but it went away.
The fifth mile was tougher. But I maintained my target pace.
Then came the 6th mile. My feet were sore. My legs were starting to cramp. I needed to rest. Big mistake. I could barely life my butt off the stone wall. Then it started to rain. Hard. I lumbered on for a bit, but fell well off my pace. When I realized that I would never make the 5pm closing I called the garage and begged a ride. I rode the last half mile.
When I got in the truck to drive home, after paying the bill, both legs cramped up. Hard. Excruciating pain. I sat in the garage parking lot, trying very hard to not scream. The cramps finally subsided enough for me to drive home.
I barely made it inside before I vomited.
Now, a full week later, my thighs are still sore and some of my toes are still bruised.
Dumbest thing I have done in years.
My silly walk
No, not a Monty Python silly walk. Wish it had been.
Background: I put the truck in for new brakes July 1. I am trying (not too hard) to sell it and upgrade to a newer, less-used used truck, but I figured that regardless of whether I sold it or kept it I had to do the repairs that would be necessary to keep it useful as a tow vehicle. The first step was brakes. The turbocharger repairs will come later.
The garage is about 6 miles from our summer home. When I dropped the truck off, at 8am on Wednesday morning, I got a ride home from brother-in-law Ray (thanks, Ray!). But I didn’t know when the truck would be done and couldn’t arrange a ride in advance. Phillipston may have taxi service – not sure about that – but it does, surprisingly, have bus service. I determined that it was very feasible to take a $1.25 bus ride to fetch the truck with only relatively short – less than half a mile – walks at either end.
The “truck is ready” call came at 3pm Thursday. A quick check of the bus schedule revealed that the next bus would arrive at 4:25pm which would get me to the garage before its 5pm closing time, but just barely. I had been sedentary for two days and was itching for some exercise. A quick mental calculation convinced me that I could walk the 6 miles and arrive, with greater certainty, at about the same time as the bus option. How hard could it be to walk 6 miles? I needed the exercise!
So on with the sneakers, grab a bottle of water and a baseball cap (hot day – upper 80s) and off I went. Briskly. The target pace was 4 mph.
Which I did for the first 4 miles. I even cut a few minutes off my projected arrival time. My right hip ached for a bit, but it went away.
The fifth mile was tougher. But I maintained my target pace.
Then came the 6th mile. My feet were sore. My legs were starting to cramp. I needed to rest. Big mistake. I could barely life my butt off the stone wall. Then it started to rain. Hard. I lumbered on for a bit, but fell well off my pace. When I realized that I would never make the 5pm closing I called the garage and begged a ride. I rode the last half mile.
When I got in the truck to drive home, after paying the bill, both legs cramped up. Hard. Excruciating pain. I sat in the garage parking lot, trying very hard to not scream. The cramps finally subsided enough for me to drive home.
I barely made it inside before I vomited.
Now, a full week later, my thighs are still sore and some of my toes are still bruised.
Dumbest thing I have done in years.
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