That was kind of fun, actually

I had to get a flat tire fixed yesterday, thanks to running over a screw on the interstate.

No, wait.  Bear with me.  This will relate to health and physical fitness, I promise.

The car had to be towed to the shop I use, because it also turns out that I don’t have a spare tire – something I’ll need to take care of, one of these days.  So I go through the routine of telling them which car is mine (“the one with the flat tire”) and handing them my keys, and then I look around.  The place is packed.  So I look back a the man behind the counter and ask how long it will take.

He looks around as well.  “Two, maybe three hours.”

Well, that sucks.  I brought a book, sure.  But I’m halfway through it and it’ll take me a lot less than two hours to finish it.  So I give him my cell phone number and say I’ll be back.  Then I step outside, intending to walk a little ways and get lunch.  And that’s when an imp of the perverse jumps up on my shoulder and says:

“The tow truck GPS said it was 2.6 miles from home to here.  I wonder if I could walk that?”

I thought about that for a minute.  Then I thought about how I wasn’t particularly hungry, and about how I didn’t want to finish my book and then go aimlessly window shop in stores I don’t care about, and about how I didn’t just want to sit in a tire store and be bored while I wait.  But I also thought about how it was humid and ninety degrees, and how I’d be walking alongside a busy state road.

“But there’s a sidewalk,” the imp said.

I thought a little longer, and then pushed the button on my FitBit and started walking.  Exactly one hour and 2.91 miles later, I was opening the door of my condo.  The first thing I did was pull off my t-shirt (which was soaked with sweat) and drink a quart of ice water.  The second thing I did was pour myself more water, and sit down.  And that’s when it hit me.

I wasn’t sore.

Oh, I felt it in my legs.  They were tired, and I was glad to be sitting down.  But… I wasn’t sore.  Nothing ached (except for the prickling on my sunburned neck).  I had just walked nearly three miles without once stopping to rest.  And I felt great!

Ten minutes later the tire place called to check on the tire they’d use, and to tell me that I could pick up the car in about half an hour.  “You could walk back to pick it up,” the imp said.

Yeah, right.  I drank my water, and drove back.  There is a such thing as “too much of a good thing”, after all.

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