Stepping into Mile 13,354...
Today marks 14 years since I took my first steps on a prosthetic leg!
You might not remember your first steps, but when you take them a second time around, you remember everything.
I can still hear prosthetist Tim telling me, "Small with the left. Big with the right." (Above-knee amputees tend to take an exaggerated step with their prosthetic side.)
I can still hear him say, "Great. That was great." (Those words filled me with hope and joy!)
On the night of February 11, 2011, my family and I crowded around the kitchen table to watch that grainy video a thousand times on my laptop!
I knew back then I would never take walking for granted.
It's still true.
I walk
around the block every morning.
I walk the hospital corridors at work.
I walk around the kitchen while I'm making dinner.
I walk in the grocery store.
I walk on sidewalks, and across streets, and (carefully) over cobblestones.
The gift of walking never wears off.
But 13,354 miles -- and 14 years -- is a long way from that starting line. By the time I realize today is "Walking Day," it's mid-afternoon and snow is on the way.
Ugh. I don't walk in snow, even after 14 years.
So I head to the gym and hop on my favorite treadmill, which offers virtual "walks" in several countries.
No problem. I'll walk in Singapore!
It's a beautiful walking day there. Sun reflects off the buildings. The trees are tropical green. The path is paved and clean.
I'm walking with my two favorite travel writers! What better way to celebrate the day?
Walking through Singapore reminds me of my friend and fellow writer Sameer, who lives there with his family. I met Sameer at Rolf Potts's
Paris Writing Workshop in 2023.
And thinking about that trip to Paris reminds me how far I've come.
 |
(That's Sameer on my right!) |
When I took my first steps back in 2011, I thought I'd never travel again -- at least not like I did before the accident.
In a sense, that was true.
The path in Singapore curves through a shady area. I walk past signposts, trash cans, spotlights, and call boxes while Rick Steves talks about depending on fellow travelers for directions and information.
Wayfinding.
I don't know why that particular word comes to mind, but it seems especially meaningful today.
They are my
Wayfinders. I'd be
lost without them.
It's not the best "leg day," but it's not the worst either. I wait to feel the familiar slip of my prosthetic socket, its rub on my skin, or the tiny leak of air that tells me my steps have expired.
I keep walking, longer than I usually do.
Farther than I think I can.
(Not that far. But far for me!)
Finally, my
right foot starts aching. I want to keep going, but I have to stop. I've learned, in 14 years, to listen to my body and respect its needs.
The path opens up to a harbor filled with bobbing, gleaming yachts. I focus on that watery horizon.
 |
And press STOP. |
Outside the gym, the first snowflakes swirl beneath the streetlights. In my earbuds, Rick Steves reaches Kathmandu. On the screen, Singapore disappears.
I stand there on the treadmill, catching my breath. Grateful for all these steps.
I could go anywhere, I think. Anywhere at all.
Happy Walking Day,
Rebecca
❤️
ReplyDeleteAww, thanks Monica! ❤️
DeleteLets meet again in Paris!
ReplyDeleteAnytime!!! Maybe I'll even take a French class with Kedi! :) Thanks for reading, Joe!
Delete