Dick Wolfsie
My wife has given me an 11:59 p.m. curfew. Let me explain.
I feel compelled to take a certain number of steps daily. I did a lot of research on the optimum number for a guy my age. But the chart I was referring to asked: “Born in 1950 or before? Please consult a doctor before making a move.” I could have made it easy on myself. You know, maybe 1,000 a day; 1,500 at most. But on my smartphone, I clicked 15,000 by mistake. Now, I was stuck. I never go back on my own words. And I wouldn’t have been able to reset the app if I wanted to.
The problem with getting to 15,000 steps is that I don’t have time to reach my daily goal. If you watched me jog (more like a lumber), you would realize how time-consuming this venture is for me. I start on the Monon most mornings. I wave to the people in wheelchairs, folks with canes, and women pushing babes in carriages as they zoom past me.
Recently, I started running in my basement at night to get in more steps. I’d dash around the ping-pong table, negotiate the couch, creep along the wall where the TV sits, and then circle around the treadmill.
“WAIT,” you say. “You have a treadmill in your basement? Why aren’t you using that to exercise?” The answer is simple: I’m not some kind of exercise nut. Who goes on a treadmill at 11 at night?
The late-night dash was not helping me accomplish my goal for several reasons. First, I started to get very bored with my basement routine. True, I did see a few photos and paintings I had never noticed before. I also discovered a half bath in what I thought was an extra closet.
Then, I had a great idea. I decided to begin trotting around the neighborhood at precisely 12 midnight. You see, my walking app automatically resets to zero at midnight, so that is my first opportunity to get a jump on the next day’s steps. I won’t make my goal unless I get a head start on my 15,000. Please tell me you understand what I’m saying.
I knew Mary Ellen would disapprove. When she heard I was considering this endeavor, she forbade me from doing it. I got away with this a few times by constantly checking to see that she was fast asleep before I snuck out.
Then, after I rounded our neighborhood last week and headed back down the street, I saw a woman in our driveway. It was Mary Ellen in her nightgown, but she also wore a very angry face. She had apparently awakened to find me missing…and realized what I was doing. Yes, she had caught me running around on her.
She rightly told me in no uncertain terms how dangerous my behavior was. I wanted to deny I had done this, but not only had I been caught red-footed, but several neighbors had video of me on their Ring doorbell.
I have promised never to do this stupid thing again. First, it’s really dangerous. Second, standing in our driveway every night at 1 a.m. in her nightgown could blemish my wife’s untarnished reputation.
Television personality Dick Wolfsie writes columns for The Daily Reporter. Send comments to [email protected].
