Notes on a Norwegian Walk

My friend Zach has been taking a lot of what he calls Scottish walks lately. He goes out in the miserable, raw dampness of November on the Oregon coast in an effort to keep his ass from getting winterized.

My metabolism seems to have adjusted to the drop in temperature and I'm no longer magically shedding pounds as my body tries to keep itself warm. In an attempt to keep the truly horrifying things that started happening to my own ass on my 30th birthday from progressing any farther or faster than necessary, I put a pair of polar fleece long underwear on under my jeans, slipped on my only waterproof pair of shoes, grabbed my camera, and ventured forth on a Norwegian walk of my own.

I didn't go far. I walked for maybe half an hour, and here's why: (1) Just because a pair of shoes is waterproof, does not mean they're good for walking in the snow. I need to get something with superior traction. Do they make studded snow shoes with good arch support? (2) Just because one's ears don't get cold on a few short sunny trips between the woodshed and the back door does not mean that one's ears will not begin turning purple after walking a few dozen feet along a shadowy lane when the temperature is well below freezing. Little tip from me to you. (3) I didn't get more than 20 yards before my back started hurting from the many many many hours I've spent sitting in my cozy leather chair next to the fire over the past few days. One might think that walking would be the perfect cure for sitting induced back pain, but one would be WRONG as I know from bitter past experience. The only cure is ibuprofen, time, stretching, and moving my lazy ass a little more around the house. I don't know if it's my stride, or my posture, or the general perversity of my body, but something about the way I walk just turns mild twinges in my lower back into agaonizing spasms. 4) I'd forgotten how much the sound of shoes squeaking on dry snow makes me want to beat my head against a particularly sturdy pine. Oh my god. Annoying. Maybe someday I'll write a fascinating post about all the sounds that make me clench my jaw and want to kill myself from the overwhelming annoyance. Or not. But next time I walk in the snow I'll be carrying my ipod.

Despite the brevity of the walk, and the few little errors in judgment on my part that made it a little less lovely than it could otherwise have been, it was beautiful. And as always, it made me wonder why the hell I don't do this more often.(