Walking Alone (But Not Really)

I woke up to write this to you.  I’d much rather still be asleep dreaming of  stewardesses sitting atop my lap.

That shows you how dated my references are.  There hasn’t been a young and attractive stewardess  on a commercial flight since 1983.

No, I woke up out of guilt.  Fear, really.  Back in January I committed to writing a blog post every day.  This goes against most “How to Grow Your Blog” guides that suggest a few times a week is plenty.  Anyhow, It’s early May and I haven’t missed yet.  It’s kind of a streak I don’t want to break.  If this is OCD, I hope it morphs into having to flip light switches on and off seven times before leaving a room.  Yes, that sounds incredibly sad, but it would give me at least a month’s worth of blog posts.

Tomorrow morning I am walking in the Bark in the Park event.  Many of you have been generous to sponsor me, and I so appreciate it.  I do these events twice a year, and on the day of, my routine is always is the same.  I wake up, jump on my bicycle with the dog strapped to my back (see my logo at the top of the screen) and pedal one mile to the beach.  There will be at least a thousand other people and their dogs.  A big exposition area with pet vendors line a football field.  There’s a stage and events like Yoga With Your Dog before the race.  I’ll pick up my t-shirt and race packet since I fail to get them ahead of time.

Then I line with everyone else and wait for it to start.  There aren’t a lot of people that do this alone.  I know because I watch everyone around me as a we walk.  It’s always couples, families, or groups of friends.  I don’t intentionally walk alone.  I just never think to invite anyone.  I’m friendly, so I always end up talking with people that are walking near me.  My dog is six pounds and attracts attention from others.

Once it’s over I walk around to the various pet store tents and get whatever free swag they’re handing out.  I usually buy an official dog t-shirt and ask someone to take our photo.  Then I jump on the bike and head home.

It sounds a bit sad, I guess, but it’s not really.  There is something about this being just a “me” experience that makes it special.  It’s a fun thing I do with myself.

Plus, I’m not alone as I’ll share it with you tomorrow when I get back.  And then I’ll eat too much pizza and pass out in the guest bedroom.  Also another fun thing I do for myself.  Well, with my cat perched on my belly and my dog sleeping between my legs.