walking the dog

I've been holding a vision of a woman I saw the other day, walking her dog.
I was riding my bike and I caught a brief glimpse of her off to my right. she was taller and slender, well but casually dressed, holding a leash on the end of which was a large, sedately strolling dog. the two of them both strolled, actually, looking relaxed yet energetic, and decidedly peaceful.
walking is good for one, I've heard.

my friend holly is a cyclist and runner, and she found that she didn't lose the weight she wanted until she slowed down and started walking.

oprah touts walking.

I have this dream that someday I will slow down and begin walking.
stop pushing so hard, stop trying to climb every hill and peak I see or hear about. just walk, walk the dog, and go to yoga.
so I can be like the dog-walker I passed the other day. serene and clean. not covered in sweat with salt streaks on her cheeks and dirt caked to her shins. no chain marks on her calves.
I could walk, and not have to wear beanies that make me look like an androgynous cyborg, or padded shorts that enlarge and emphasize my rear while sporting tight strips of elastic that cut into the chubbiest parts of my thighs.

I could walk, and look better while doing it.
my heart would still be happy.
my dog would be happy.

I might not be able to experience the thrill of swooping, but I'm sure I would discover other joys. I would see things I don't take the time to notice now. I wouldn't earn any more Queen of the Hill prizes, but I'm sure I would find other things to give myself awards for.

I would slow down, breathe more deeply.
and walk.

oh all right, and perhaps I've just have a cruiser or a fixie so I can still climb up little hills and inclines so that I don't completely forget what it's like to swoop.