The part of Indiana in which I live is fairly flat, not like the Great Miami River Valley or the Ohio River Valley which include both Dayton and Cincinnati where I have lived.  Those places have hills and winding roads; you go up and you come down – not like a mountain, more like up, down, up again, down again, a bit of a flat stretch then up at a slight but very perceptible grade . . . and back down.  Maybe you come to a creek area with no culvert and you go back; it is easy to get turned around. I experimented with a walking route in Fairborn in our apartment complex. I did this one repeated up and down thing for what looked like a fair stretch of the legs, but it only took 12 minutes, so I did it again – and again, adding detours into cul de sacs and sidewalks out to a main road and back.  That didn’t have me dripping with sweat because I did not push myself, so I walked up another way, almost lost my bearings, got back to my court, walked around it a couple of times and finally went in and drank iced tea on the balcony.

The problem with doing this is daydreaming and knowing the long, long incline on the north boundary of my path is going to have to be repeated. I need to have a psychologically acceptable route; this is not impossible, but with apartment complexes  blending together in a rolling hill area with woods, it is going to take planning. One thing, though: I believe once I get a feel for the area, if I get tired or hurt my foot, I’m pretty certain there is across country (read across grass) back to my starting point. Everything is not unlike a looping river; in one place, I figured I could lie down on the grass and roll down a hill to our building which by sidewalk was some distance away.

Of course, with well tended, manicured green areas, I might be picked up by the local security for grass smashing and derelict behavior. This is where the little old lady act comes in handy. What is disturbing is that I find I don’t have to act the part so much anymore . . .