The Art of Walking Indoors

Recently, my mom encouraged me to start getting out of the house and walking.  Instead of attempting to walk outside in this frozen wasteland, we headed over to the local hockey rink to do laps on the upper concourse.  The first time we went, we walked together and chatted.  It was a great way to get exercise and catch up on things.  By the time I'd completed my ninth lap (which is just over a mile), I was done.  My mom took off for one extra lap and I noticed that she increased her speed.

The next time she phoned me to go, I threw my iPod in my pocket.  I asked her if she would be offended if we walked separately for two reasons - (1) I didn't want to slow her down and (2) music is an awesome motivator for me (that and seeing people who are fatter than me out walking - it reminds me that I don't want to get to their size so it pushes me to walk faster and try and lap them).

I was on my sixth lap when my legs started to feel a bit rubbery.  I told myself I would do one more lap and call it a day.  And then Lady Gaga's "Pokerface" came blasting through my earphones.  Outwardly, the only change to my gait was that my pace increased.  Mentally, I became a fierce beyotch of a model, strutting down the runway wearing an original Versace gown and a stone cold look on my face.  I held my gaze on a single point at the end of each runway and worked it like it's never been worked before.  I kid you not, when I hit the corner of the rink that is blocked from view by the special seating boxes, I even did a spin on the runway.  Albeit, I did a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one behind me was going to catch sight of this.  I was able to get three more laps in before the song ended and my runway debut came to and end.

Once again, I felt like my legs were done and that was my final lap.  But next up on the playlist was Celine Dion's "River Deep, Mountain High" (I understand if you delete my blog from your favourites after reading that).  In my mind, my stretch pants were replaced with a glittery, tassled mini skirt and I was whooping it up a la Tina Turner.  As I rounded the corner blocked from everyone's view, I was ready to throw some jazz hands up in the air, but this time there was a pair of ladies behind me, so I withheld my outward spectacle.  Inside, I was shimmying all over the stage :)

On a final note, for anyone in the area who decides to take up walking at this particular rink, let me give you a little bit of advice...that narrow stretch that's blocked off from view that I mentioned?  Do not, I repeat, do NOT break wind while you're walking in that area.  If it's a gooder of a toot, it will hang in the air for the next two three laps.  On the upside, chances of anyone pinpointing it on you are slim :)