A sore calf – not a goat – is helping me write. Image: Courtney Nash http://www.flickr.com/photos/cnash/
I’m nursing a sore calf. That means I’m not running. I’m walking instead. I never walk. Ever. Except this morning when I walked with Rita.
It was nice to go for a brisk walk in the cool morning air. We talked a lot about little stuff. Like how Rita made an anti-magpie guard out of tree branches when she was a young girl herding goats for her dad in the bush outside Boulder.
Rita’s always been an innovator. She can make something out of nothing. It’s nothing for her to make a meal out of ‘stuff’ we’ve got in the cupboard while I’m scratching my head trying to work out what to do next.
She’s good like that.
But as nice as walking with Rita is, it isn’t getting me fit for the Perth marathon.
It is, though, giving me time to focus on my chin-up challenge. I figure that if I can’t run then I may as well do chin-ups. So I’ll probably do a million of those while my calf is mending.
Then there’s my blogging. I didn’t feel much like blogging tonight until I thought of our walk this morning. It kind of made me smile a little bit and then my fingers started moving.
Walking leads to writing. Who’da thunk it!
