Thursday, March 6, 2008

Every morning I do my power walk through the neighborhood. It's cheaper than the gym - much cheaper. Actually it's FREE - lucky me. I do have to force myself every morning - rain, heat or shine. At times my motivation level is equal with the road drains.

So off I go this morning in my $125.00 dollar sneakers. They are so comfy - it's like walking on the beach at Siesta Key. I get a few blocks from the house and I feel a tiny tiny pebble in my left foot. Does this mean I'm a Princess because I can feel such a tiny obstacle placed in my shoe most likely by the wicked stepmother of the charming Prince? Oh wait, she placed a pea under a zillion mattresses.

The minuscule object is annoying and uncomfortable. What to do? Go back home? That sounds like a plan. No - be strong I say to no one as I walk alone. I hop on one foot to dislodge the particle. It's probably a grain of sand. That would definitely make me a real live Princess. The hop don't work!

I give my foot a severe kick out to the left. Not a good move. I do a fancy footwork dance down the sidewalk. I'm hoping no one is watching this spectacle. I do the toe walk - then the heel walk. If only there were a bench. I look at the sidewalk. If I sit down to dislodge the perpetrator - will I be able to get back up? HHHMMM!!!! I proceed in discomfort.

Now it feels like the particle is growing. I start to hop and kick at the same time. These are dangerous moves for someone as uncoordinated as me. I see a large palm tree and lean in against the massive trunk. I reach down to remove the shoe and slip slowly face first into the sidewalk. Ouch. The shoe goes flying though the air and deposits itself at the edge of the road drain. I think I can crawl and reach in and grab it. I hear the crunch of tires and see a blur of black pass by. It's Wednesday and it's trash day and the haulers are late and in a hurry to finish the route and they don't see my shoe laying precariously close to the edge of the drain by the side of the road. SMACK. Right over my $125.00 dollar shoe sending it into the bowels of the earth.

I limp back home - one shoe on one shoe lost to the underworld. I look for the gilded carriage to come by to save me a Princess in distress. Or at least one of the seven dwarfs to assist me. At this point I would be glad to see the troll who lives under the bridge around the corner. There is no rescue for me.

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