Resolutions the hard way
Somehow, thankfully, in the process of surgery, spending time with my mom, and generally living in my recovery bubble, I’ve missed out on the pathological reverence for New Year’s resolutions. Or, maybe I didn’t because COVID has sort of wiped that out, too. I’m not sure. I was reminded of the frailty of such volitions the other day on my walk to the mailbox.
I live in an HOA community of townhouses, each cluster of townhomes has about six homes (after three years, you would think that I know how many). Reserving my thoughts on HOAs for the moment, all the community mailboxes are located at one end of the “village.” We happen to live between the start of the village and the middle section, so the mailbox walk is about 8 minutes on a reasonably slow place. It can, and has, been done quicker.
On Tuesday, I was making my way to the mailbox, in the foolish hope that my return to work letter had been stuck in the mail, and that the women I spoke with hadn’t really ghosted me after stating that she’d get it to me last week. It wasn’t there among the flyers for the latest grocery sales and random health bills I swore I already paid. That’s a post for another time.
Tuesdays are trash days for the main service provider to our ‘hood. As I walked past the various cans and recycling bins I noticed that one neighbor had also put out a treadmill. My immediate reactions was — well, that was quick. Stopping for a moment, like I would for any piece of exercise equipment, I wondered if it was being tossed because it didn’t work, or because they didn’t. The machine looked in immaculate condition — the belt was pristine and not worn at all. Was this just a hopeful pandemic purchase, I wondered. Could they not sell it? Or did they hope someone would just take it like they did my broken lawnmower when it was put out on trash day?
I had so many questions, but mainly found myself envious of that treadmill. Some days have proven just too cold, wet, or snowy to go out for a walk. I have a bike in my spare room, but like everything else in there, I can’t use it yet. Buying a treadmill right now seems like a luxury item that isn’t prudent; which has never been an indicator of my doing something in the past. It is far more likely that the realization of effort to get a treadmill up the stairs is not reasonable at the moment.
Still, I want more movement — of that I am resolute.
Song of the day: You and me on the rock, Brandi Carlile
