How to Hike the Last Mile of the Day
When I have a painful last mile to walk, I envision walking down my road at home for what I know to be a mile: Now I’m at the bottom of the driveway . . . now I’m at the next-door neighbor’s . . . now I’m at the church . . . I always seem to cut this one too short.
Rounding mileage up so I arrive quicker than I think I will.
Rounding my expected time up for the same reason.
Actually counting my steps, figuring 5,280 feet per mile and two feet to each step. I always miscount and add more, so I arrive earlier than expected.
Sing a lot of songs.
Fantasize what I will eat for dinner.
Focus on the beauty around me.
Talk to the animals.
Write blogs in my head.
Compose responses in my head to people who have contacted me.
Envision a great tent spot and how good it will feel to lie down.
Eat that extra protein bar.
Think about the food I will get when in town.
Sing yet more songs.
Be grateful I can feel my pain and am not paralyzed.