I’m kind of an old person. I like to call it middle age but I’d have to live beyond 100 to be middle aged. The thing about old people is they don’t roll with punches without grumbling. Mostly. My walking group is a good example of life going catawampus.
I walk at an indoor mall. Management opens at 7:15 a.m. for walkers. The earlier stores (hair salons) open at 8 a.m. The rest open at 10 a.m. I walk with a person from my old gym. I am grateful to her for introducing me to this group. She walks early and I join her when I get there at 8.
I have blogged about her before. She is overly chatty and I am pre-coffee so we have our moments. I have learned to phase her out when I’m not in the mood. I have great skills having attended a gazillion business meetings in my life.
Recently she adjusted her schedule so our walking time together would only be 15 minutes instead of 30. I thought I died and gone to heaven. I walk 40 to 45 minutes so I would have time to connect with other walkers or do some deep soul searching meditation (pre-coffee, it wouldn’t be that deep!).
I connected up with the guy she said was a sex maniac. (He’s not and he’s pretty damn close to 80 so no worries.) A long time ago we worked at the same company. We spent the first few times comparing notes on people we knew. No one overlapped. He said I looked familiar. That’s easy when you ride the same elevators day after day. (My story is that my astounding beauty would make an impression on anyone!)
I was happy. Different partners and solo walking kept it interesting. Until the other shoe dropped. The mall put up a notice that going forward it was opening at 8 a.m. for the walkers. That’s 45 minutes later.
There are about 15 walkers on any given day walking the “early shift.” These are older retired people. Feisty older retired people. Most walk from 7:30 to 8:30, then congregate in a group and gossip. I’m not a member of this part of the group. After my walk, Starbucks beckons.
I am not happy about the change because it may mean that my walking partner will walk with me the entire time. She is not happy either. She informed me that if she gets home at 9 a.m. she’s lost her whole morning. (Yeah, I don’t get that either but when you go to bed at 7 p.m. your perspective is different.)
I saw you roll your eyes. These are first world problems for sure and it will iron itself out. Somehow I will disconnect part of the time. My walking partner will adjust her day or shorten her walking time. The world will continue to worry about the corona-virus. The geriatric walking group will continue to discuss their various sex lives. (The age span is 68 to 95. At this point sex is always accompanied by a blue pill or so they say.) This is life in my walking group. Entertaining and always changing.
*The title is in reference to a soap opera that was on TV for decades. My mother watched it every day. It was always full of silly drama. Really silly drama, like my walking group.