Day 23

This post is a little late because I was out of town on Thursday and Friday speaking at a legal conference about legal ethics. I got to hand out my new business card, which has my firm’s motto on the back.

I think I generated some good business opportunities, and replenished my ego after a long absence from the speaking circuit - the presentation went well and my jokes mostly landed.

Anyway, I had wanted to write about Wednesday night’s adventures, but couldn’t until now.

After my workout on Wednesday afternoon, Art and I were in the gym’s parking lot walking out to our respective cars and I told him I was up for a walk in the evening if he was. He said that he was going to run a hard five miles, but could walk four more after that to complete ithe mileage he’d budgeted for that day. I was fine with that.

Around 4:30, he checked in and told me that his wife and new baby - Sweet Maizie - would be joining us for the first mile. He told me to be at his house at 6:30. That sounded great.

When I got there, Art was on his treadmill running hard downhill. And it was something to see - the hoary idiom for running is “pounding the pavement,” but it was not an exaggeration that Art was pounding this poor treadmill at a speed I could not reach even if I was being chased by a bear.

As he finished that run, I sat in his kitchen reading Nicole’s copy of Joanna Gaines’s Magnolia Table cookbook (it’s a pretty book and I’m sure the recipes have been carefully curated, but I will eat our leftover Thanksgiving flower bouquet if Joanna wrote any of those recipes). After a while, Art’s family came out of the master bedroom and we all loaded up the strollers for the walk.

Sweet Maizie had her own stroller, while Everly and Isla shared a larger one. Because it was cool outside, the girls were tucked in with two blankets.

And off we went. The girls entertained themselves by pretending to pick their noses (classic comedy), while the adults had a very nice conversation.  After a mile, Nicole took the baby back to their house and the rest of us pressed on.  

Because it was both dark and cold, I was wearing a knit beanie with a flashlight attachment that I had gotten at the MOMA shop in New York City. This hat fascinated the girls - how could it not? - so I shared it with them.

Mistake No. 1. For the next mile or so, Everly would flash the LED light in my eyes or Art’s, temporarily blinding us while she laughed and laughed. The only way it could have been funnier was if I had stepped into an open manhole or off a cliff, like a Warner Brothers cartoon character. Fortunately neither hazard was on our route.

Then the girls started getting bored. We tried to direct their attention to the Christmas decorations on the yard as we were passing, but they’d had enough of that. Isla kicked her blankets off three or four times and said, “I wanna walk!”

So, ignoring Art’s advice to let them cry it out (which was the right strategy, but I am a notorious softie), I unbelted her and picked her up.

Mistake No. 2. Isla is a wonderful little girl, but she was not easy to carry. She wriggled and squirmed and slid and slipped and it was all I could do to hold on to her. So I went to my go-to move - up she went on my shoulders.

Art laughed and told me, “Now you’re getting some weight work done on this walk.” He wasn’t kidding. Try walking for ten minutes with about forty pounds on your shoulders and you’ll feel like someone shlepping a sack of rice from Sam’s Club.

But Isla loved it - she was viewing the world from the perspective of an NBA power forward. Now that I think about it, it’s a pretty cool place up there, like being a sultana on an elephant, reviewing the masses far below.

Isla and me.

After a while, mindful of the Rolling Stones lyric, “Don’t want to be your beast of burden,” I gave up on being Isla’s elephant and put her back in the stroller. 

But now Everly wanted a ride. Sigh. So up she went for a short while. Big sister, bigger weight. I didn’t last long.

While this was going on, Art kept us moving and eventually everyone settled down and we got home. I then played the Your High Five Slap Makes Me Say Ouch and Dance Around in Pain game with the girls (another classic for the under-five crowd) and then Art sent me on my way with Joanna’s cookbook.

Not one of my best walking times (19 minute miles), but great fun.

Tomorrow: another long walk. Hope to crack eight this time!