Walking. These boots are made for walkin’…

Posted on by Live & Learn

I don’t stroll. I don’t meander. Or stop to catch-up. Or walk sipping coffee. I don’t sit on park benches contemplating my fate.

Move fast, talk straight, get it done. Next! #BePatient? Ahhhh, no.

Late March. It’s still fresh, oh so very fresh. I’m marching through the Park at 4 a.m., pre-dawn, usual story. Just another morning on the same path I’ve walked a thousand + times. Pitch black.

Kate Fagan: “You just never f****** know what’s going to happen next in this life—okay?

I walk…

These boots are made for walkin’
And that’s just what they’ll do
One of these days, these boots are gonna walk all over you (Nancy Sinatra, 1966)

Nope, I didn’t see it. No sixth sense, no gut intuition, no unconscious memory map of treacherous obstacles.

My toecap catches a large rock, and I’m airborne. Yes, in that split second, it was all in slow motion. Instinctively, the body did respond:

  1. Clutch cameras (PROTECT THE GEAR AT ALL COSTS NO MATTER WHAT DAMAGE TO BODY)
  2. WAIT! Wait just one millisecond. I can’t FACE-PLANT. I twist my right shoulder inward to absorb the blow.

Stunned and now on my back. I look around to see if anyone caught this show. WHO would be watching WHAT at 4:15 a.m that isn’t in bed?!?!

I lay there on the gravel taking inventory:

  • Shoulder bruised.
  • Leg scraped by The Rock.
  • Eyes blurry, either from shock or a concussion, or just my brain trying to reboot?
  • Camera is destroyed.
  • Confidence, SHAKEN.

Fast forward to today. 1,890 straight (almost, like in a row) days of these morning walks at Cove Island. Five months since that rock tried to take me out.

I take the exact same route taking me to the bottom right of the photo. But this time, I’m packing a pen-flashlight, a new carry-on that has become mandatory for the rough terrain.

And there it is—that son-of-a-b*tch Rock, lurking. I stop. Not today, pal. Not today.

Ernest Hemingway in A Farewell to Arms: “No, that is the great fallacy: the wisdom of old men. They do not grow wise. They grow careful.” – Ernest Hemingway

Nope. I refuse to accept that I’m old.

Yes, agree Ernest, that there isn’t much wisdom retention or accumulation going on here.

I slip the flashlight into my pocket. And pick up the pace.

As to growing careful, there’ll be time for careful later. Much later.

These boots were made for walkin’…

Notes: DK Photo @ 4:49 am, this morning July 8, 2025 @ Cove Island Park. More pictures from this morning’s walk here.

44 thoughts on “Walking. These boots are made for walkin’…”

  1. Our experiences were on parallel paths – tho’ in different months. Totally wipe out in a parking lot – on loose gravel – bloodied and mortified and ill-prepared to confront age or balance, nor embrace the notion that paying closer attention to where my feet go may be a good idea…

    1. Mimi, same here, albeit some years back, late for ensemble practice, rainy, dark, uneven ground on parking lot – still damages in knees! old(er) age isn’t for sissies

      1. Ouch!! I’m sorry you still have some leftover reminders of that fall! Hopefully those knees will get better – tho’ arguably they’re taking longer to get the message!

        1. Mimi, they obviously didn’t read the memo – that was some 10+yrs ago…. but I’m not easily discouraged, just doing everything at a more leisurely pace AND trying to be more careful. 😉

  4. You need to stop and breathe more, Pal… 😉
    Nothing worse than being forced into realising that we are not as erm… spry… as we used to be.

  5. “As to growing careful, there’ll be time for careful later. Much later.”

    I had to laugh at this. The first thing that came to mind was: “I will be careful when I’m dead.” (stolen from the much more common cliché: “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”)

      1. I have one! Good quality from L.L. Bean! 10 years old… Brand new in box as I could never bring myself to wear it (fashion disaster!). If it came with batteries included… The acid is probably burning a hole in my house somewhere. I doubt I could find that box! 🙂

        2. Paul, having terrible eyesight, I bought one too. With my wild hair an impossible task to even fit it – and by them I’d already run into the next disaster…. have no idea where mine is, just like you!

  11. I took a picture of a perfect resting space for you today. Check out my Instagram and see if it’s worthy for you to take a breather.

    No more trips and falls! Mostly because it’s me and one other walker there at that time and I know I cannot carry you back to your car.

    I would make sure there was photographic evidence of the fall. For the camera’s insurance claim. Nothing more sinister than that…..

          1. First of all…. This was MONTHS ago…. Sounds like he wanted a pity party bringing it back up. I was also VERY generous with my sharing out of details, as he was more in a rage over the camera (he has SIX) than his body (his has ONE). So I tried to not tease too much. BUT… truly…. I have no idea how he missed this “rock”… it’s a boulder. Might be time for his annual trip to the optometrist. Cant see what is right in front of him. Now the entire park lights up every few seconds from 4-5am like a laser light show because Inspector Gadget needs to see.

  14. I guess I missed the original story. Destroyed the camera? Ouch. Yes, getting old isn’t easy and at 65, I have become very deliberate and slow in my walking. What I wouldn’t give for two good ankles 😞. Glad you conquered the path today 👊

  15. all and everything has been said! i MUST be more careful and slow down, or i’d die before the day ends…. no more sky-watching while walking.

Leave a Reply