The stroll

As part of Melody and I attempting to control the continuous attack of middle age spread, we like to get out on the weekends for a walk in one of our wonderful local parks. This morning I got up at my usual 5:30am, proceeded to prep a pot of coffee, and then braved the brisk morning air as I performed the daily "where the heck is the newspaper" manhunt. After finally finding it out of view in the gutter, I quickly trotted back into the house. At this point Melody has miraculously awoken and is in the kitchen pouring a cup of java with a sheepish grin. After thirteen years of marriage it never ceases to amaze me no matter how long I sleep in or early I get up she usually manages to get out of bed about ten minutes after I have finished grinding the coffee beans and the coffee maker has managed to eke out enough juice for a single cup o' joe. She must have ESP or something!

I wait for that wonder of modern science to produce another cup of wonder juice, then head into my office (converted from our third bedroom) where Melody is already reading the paper. I first read the sports page, as it is my solemn duty to read every single word written about the Cincinnati Bengals that is committed to ink. Then it is on the Sunday crossword puzzle, which is my way of finding out for that particular day if I am the dog or I am the hydrant. Today, I was the hydrant.

It does not get light until about 7:30 am this time of year in Cincinnati, so Melody has plenty of time to read the paper and get prepared to go out into the world. Remember, whereas a guy can be ready in ten minutes, including shower and shave, most females of the species require a multiply of about 5 or 6 based on that factor. (add an additional minimum of 3/4 hour if they wash their hair) While she is getting ready I read more of the paper and attempt the crossword one more time. I am still the hydrant.....

Today we walked at Winton Woods. It is part of the Hamilton County park district and has a nice paved walking/cycling path that forms a 1.6 mile (2.6km) lazy circle around a scenic lake. Melody is wearing a nice gray "jogging" ensemble while I have on blue track suit bottoms, my Liverpool FC training top, and a Bengals baseball cap. Such slaves to fashion are we....

Off we go on our stroll around the lake. Normally we would do at least three laps but today we will only do two. This is due to my weakened condition after playing a spirited game of soccer the previous evening on my over thirty league team. (We drew 1-1) It's not that I was not physically capable of walking further, it was that every bone joint below my diaphragm was screaming like a diving Stuka with every step I was taking. Of course we can't end this without discussing the different types of people we see while walking. If you are looking for stereotypes, then walking around the lake at Winton Woods is the place to be.

First off we spot mid-fifties balding running guy, who is wearing "I make a lot of money and am not afraid to spend it" running shoes with long sleeved Nike "Dry Fit" running shirt. However, even though he does not have an ounce of fat on his frame, he still manages to wear a pair of running shorts that are entirely too tight. He is very intent on his running and does not break his gaze on whatever landscape is directly in front of his face. My guess is that he is a business owner has hired and fired an imaginary assistant several times since starting his run.

Secondly comes the late forties "gossip while you walk" female duo. They are fairly nicely dressed, not as haute couture as 50's running guy but no slouches in their own rank. Also, unlike the runner, they stop gossiping long enough to say hi to Melody and I, then dive right back into the juicy rumor of the day.

I would rather not mention the third breed, but since I brought it up... along comes the "I must get back into shape" female. This one is wearing headphones and sunglass so this combination does not invite anyone to say good morning. My guess is she is probably in her late thirties and clearly could be well served by losing a considerable amount of weight. Her walking pace is swift, but the true crime is that she is wearing shorts tighter than the one's cyclists like to sport. That wouldn't be much of an issue in most cases, but in this particular case an entire Tour de France team could fit in them. We just walk on by.....

Lastly is old guy with equally old dog. Old guy thinks fashion is a Danish word for "steal my hard earned money" and wears clothing that was last worn by anyone under the age of forty during the Johnson administration. (yes, Lydon.. not Andrew) However, true to form, nothing is too good for his gray whiskered beagle, which has a new collar, leash, and "purty" fancy tartan doggie sweater to make sure he does not catch a chill. He always has a big smile and hello for anyone within a twenty yard radius.

Bro, I would discuss more types, but my still "wicked hard" painful joints are informing me that it is time to soak them in a tub of hot water... Adios mon frere....

PS: tried the crossword one more time... just paint me yellow.......