Doug Digs in to some orthotics...
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Far be it for me to brag, but if I've learned anything about being outdoors, it's don't. Just sit on your hands, put on your walking shoes, and get out there and climb to the summit is where I walk most days. Straight up west streets and the steep stairs in between in any kind of weather. Damn proud and in top shape until she came to town. Hey, Doug. Sure be nice to go for a walk. Jesus, you just moved back from the West Coast. Unpacking all your boxes, reassembling your furniture. You got to be gassed. Yeah, you're right. I do feel a little jet lagged, but, you know, some fresh air just might do me some good. Okay, but I got to warn you, I work out every day, so I'll go easy on you. That's really nice of you, Prophetic last words, because I barely saw her after that, and she quickly disappeared into the distance, heading right up to the top of Mount Royal. In hindsight, it was sort of like chasing a rabbit at a Greyhound race, so I hate to skip right to the epilogue, but it didn't end well for me. She was so fast and I was so far behind. I guess I never heard it when she happened to mention her cycling and rollerblading up mountain roads on the West Coast just for fun. And that on the days when she wasn't actually training for the Senior Olympics. Meanwhile, I myself have since become introduced to a senior orthopedics, although I doubt there's any event left for me on a Walker, I can't even put my socks on now without falling over. Sorry, could you help me up.