Make Time to Walk

Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time. ~Steven Wright

I was born a walker. Growing up in a one car family that my father needed to get to work while living in the outskirts of town meant that if you wanted to do anything or go anywhere you relied on your feet. This was so ingrained that I did not bother get a drivers license until I was 25. When I moved to the city in my early adulthood, I relied on buses to transport me to work until a strike taught me that the hour and a half walk to and from was reasonable and pleasant, at least on the good weather days. For seven years, while living in the car-obsessed and sidewalk-phobic suburban USA, I slowly lost the habit, but I've been gaining it back, going on almost daily adventures of urban exploration.

It never ceases to amaze me how little many of my friends know of their own backyards, even when they have lived in the area all their lives. We have traded an adventurers' soul for the mundane, stress inducing car commute, even driving to the store a few blocks away. Reassessing my own life and stress, I came to the realization that I was a lot happier as a walker, in the fresh air, in nature, interacting with people, seeing the small little things that make city life or country living so pleasurable, and which often get missed in the car.

I'll share my favourite walks and memories in and around my current home of Toronto, as well as Halifax, Chicago and Paris. Take a stroll with me.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Walking in a Different Direction

Today's walk with the boys was short and sweet, since it was cold and rainy and I had yet another doctor appointment.  We did the obligatory hour that I got paid for and nothing more.  In fact if the new guy had had his way it would only have been a half hour walk.  He's a sensitive little soul and likes his comforts.  We stuck around his neighbourhood and it was mostly a "scratch and sniff" session.  If you have a dog you know what I'm talking about, you don't really do a lot of walking, mostly just standing while they nose about and sniff whatever it is they find so darn fascinating on the ground, around fence posts, each other's butts.  I'm pleased to report that they had a good enough time and it must have been sufficient as my fellow is plum tuckered out and curled up on his bed, all fluffy and content-like.  

While I was standing around letting them do their thing, I had plenty of time to mope around and feel sorry for myself.  I got some bad news at the Doctor's office yesterday.  Not end of the world kind of stuff but something that is going to seriously change how I live.  Turns out that there's a strong possibility that I have a food allergy or intolerance.  It's something that I suspected but didn't want to hear.  I fancy myself a bit of a gastronome, most who know me would agree that I definitely do like my eats 'n drinks.  So the thought of cutting out huge swathes of food that I really, really love from my diet was really a tad depressing.  Just in time for the holiday season I've been put on a strict elimination diet.  While everyone else will be stuffing their faces with chocolates, cheese, cookies, and candy, i'll be eating, well, rice.  And more rice.  It didn't really hit me how hard it was going to be until I opened the cupboard this morning for breakfast.  Out of a full pantry, three cupboards, a full fridge and upright freezer I can eat the following:  apples, oranges, a pommello, rice, orange juice, some tetra pak soymilk, and a can of chickpeas.  

But when I was back at the Doctor's office this morning for some different tests I just came to the realization that this is just an obstacle in the path.  I can choose to curl up in fetal position in my own little pity party or I can choose to just walk in a different direction and deal with the notion that path I wanted to follow is closed.  Maybe this new one will be better.  And perhaps I should walk myself over the grocery store...
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