YAY! on more fronts than one. The weather has improved, plus I’m over my three-day flu-like symptoms, so I’m back to my brisk walking – “running,” as I like to call it, perhaps because it sounds more athletic than walking (and I’ve never been an athletic person). No more excuses for the rest of my life; I’m back to my physical routine in full force, although I’ve cut back from an hour to thirty minutes. Health experts say thirty minutes a day is enough, so I’ll trust them on that.
After completing my run this morning, it suddenly dawned on me how similar circumstances seem to be no matter where one walks. If you remember my post of March 17 entitled “Buenos Dias,” I extolled the virtues of Mexicans for being friendlier than Canadians. My posting of “La Ciclopista” dated March 9 chittered about the pitfalls of running along the highway. Well, as I discovered, maybe things aren’t so much different here in Nova Scotia as compared to Mexico.
Today is the first day I passed other people. And you know what? They all said hello. I was stunned. So, Mexican people: Canadians are just as friendly as you are. I apologize to my neighbours for ever doubting you. Buenos dias!
On a sad note, I couldn’t help but notice all the garbage – Tim Horton’s cups, plastic bags, paper items – strewn alongside the streets, which so reminded me of Mexico. This isn’t a highway I run on, but streets in my own subdivision, and most of these items are hiding down the embankment, away from view when in a car. Obviously whoever disposed of these unsightly garbage items are residents of this fine area. I can’t imagine outsiders driving into this subdivision for the sole purpose of tossing items out a car window, but I suppose some visitors may. Mexicans for the most part are clean and neat, but they haven’t yet learned to not litter, although that’s improving.
Even though I don’t fight off the dogs when I walk here, like I do when on the malecon in Ajijic, I do have to watch the traffic, as if I’m back on the carretera. Despite living in a quiet residential district, there are the occasional loony drivers. I tend to move to the gravel section bordering the pavement when I hear or see a vehicle approaching. Better to be safe than sorry!
Of course, it goes without saying that the weather is much different. It was warm every morning when we set out for our jaunts in Ajijic. I’d be attired in a royal blue spandex short-sleeved top and slinky black pants, along with matching blue wrist weights and huge sunglasses. Since I’ve been home, I’ve worn jeans, an old winter jacket, scarf and mittens. I haven’t donned the wrist weights yet. But the air is just as refreshing, albeit cooler.
I lustily breathe in the crisp morning dawn. My mind, open and free, contemplates the wonders of life. I’m grateful to be healthy and alive, able to run the distance.