Since my eyesight went out for a run and never really came back, I have ridden an exercise bike at home five or six days a week. As you can imagine, even with the addition of workout videos, it can get pretty boring.
With the arrival of spring, I have started walking our neighborhood. I’ve only been out a handful of times so far this year. It’s not easy, the sidewalks are uneven and full of cracks and we also have some steep hills. It’s a good workout but also a bit dangerous even if you’re 20/20.
When I last went out, the entire time I kept thinking how incredibly stupid it would be if I fell and got hurt. Even though I was listening to a motivational speech during the walk, I couldn’t shake the thought no matter how many times I pushed it away.
I’m about to head out this morning and already this unwanted mantra has begun to creep in, before I even have my sneakers on. Trying to shut it down before I leave the house, I wonder why this is happening all of a sudden? Although this is a physical risk as opposed to other things I pursue with the possibility of a metaphorical fall, I am usually able to quickly move past any fears I may have of not landing on my feet. But of course with limited vision, my chances of taking a tumble are greater than they were before. And I think already having body parts that no longer work the way they’re supposed to makes me extra concerned about damaging another piece of my anatomy.
I’ve got to get back out there. The correlation between literal and figurative is not lost on me. But this really is all about not getting physically hurt. The exercise bike is right here in this room. It’d be so easy and safe to hop on. And monotonous.
And that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back and has me going for a walk. And praying that that’s the only thing fractured in the next hour.