Return Of The Kat
life·@generikat·
0.000 HBDReturn Of The Kat
<center>And A Lesson Learned On Centennial Trail</center> --------------------- ------------------------  ------------------------ This weekend I escaped and spent some time doing non-planned, relaxation things in the company of my best friend. I will write in depth about that topic tomorrow, for although I am content and have achieved a state of non-stress after my weekend, I am also rather tired from lack of sleep and a bit of spontaneous cardio-exertion. However, in true GK style, I do have an educational public service announcement to share with you all: <center>**Don't Hike Eight Miles on Asphalt In Cowboy Boots**</center> ------------------- --------------- Our weekend's accommodations were located close to Spokane's Centennial Trail, a 37 mile long paved walking trail. On Saturday morning my friend and I woke up and decided we should go for a stroll as the trail was just a cul de sac away. The only footwear that I had with me were my trusty old Ariats, but I figured that if I could ride a horse twenty miles with the boots adorning my feet, why couldn't I just walk half that distance in them? <center>WRONG NUMBER!</center> ---------------- ----------------- Granted, I didn't really notice what was happening to my feet, tendons, and calves as I happily strode along along the Spokane River like an Adderall addled squirrel, happily chirping, head swiveling about to take in the scenes. How could I be expected to notice that my feet were atrophying into sleds of vein exploding pain when I saw things like this along my way:  I mean, why in the world would some grown person take some time out of their day and put faces and creepy creatures on trees. I could imagine how the creation of such a bit of trail art went down: <center>*"You know what Maude? All of the trees along the trail are just so basic. I think I am going to slap some cartoon faces on a couple of them to mess with the wanna be Lance Armstrongs. Maybe we'll get lucky and have something entertaining to watch besides the channel 4 weather gal."*</center> <center>*"That sounds lovely Harold, make sure you wear your safety glasses when you use the miter saw. You remember what happened last time."*</center> <center>*"Quiet! You soul-sucking harpy! You only need one good eye anyway!"*</center> Amusing imagined Maude and Harold dialogue aside, I found the random wood faces on the trees a touch whimsical, creepy, and let's just be honest here, entertaining.  The Spokane River itself was quite refreshing to take a stroll next too, as it gurgled its way along its part of the Earth. My friend and I spoke slightly louder than normal to account for the river's subdued roar, and I was so engrossed in our conversation that I didn't noticed the lack of support leather Defcon 5 that was building on the hooves region of my anatomy. Later on in our stroll we stopped and had to snap a picture of some *"wildlife."* In the Guest Welcome Manual of our weekend place of residence, there was a section of the book that gave directions to the trail and described some of the wildlife that we might see. I was rather disappointed to discover that all of the wildlife cited in the book were all animals. As I dwell in the country I get a bit more excited to see a middle age woman wearing sparkly pajama pants or a bunch of youths cruising down a trail in a liberated shopping cart. Apparently to those that dwell in urban areas squirrels, hawks, and deer are more sought after sights. So when I saw a couple of marmots I thought I better act like a proper urban visitor and get really excited about the furry little beasts. And I must admit, both my friend and I put on a pretty appreciative wildlife viewing performance.  It was in the last couple of miles of my waterside stroll that I began to notice that my gait was changing. *"Why am I ambling like an old timber faller?"* I thought to myself. It was then that I noticed my left foot was throbbing like a parent's brain after an afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese with a bunch of four year old heathens. By the time I ascended the stairs of our weekend home, I could barely walk. My feet felt like they had been steamrolled by two obese twerking hippos in a gunny sack. It's over twenty-four hours later and my poor tootsies still feel more like rolls than lolly pops of high stepping joy. Never again will I stride forth, at least on miles of asphalt in boots made for ranch work. That action was about as smart as not HODLing crypto that you bought on the gain. The only FUD I am feeling right now is that of the Elmer variety. So, in that self-chastising vein, it is off to the tub I go to soak my poor aching feet, and I shall return with more of my verbal shenanigans on the great ball of gas rotation-side!  ----------------------------- <center>*And as always, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's trod-happy iPhone.*</center> ------------------------ <center>Want to read more @Generikat posts?</center> --------------------- ---------------------- <center>https://media.giphy.com/media/uOYFAiLuW83Yc/giphy.gif</center> <center>[Click Here!](https://steemit.com/life/@generikat/it-s-a-total-takedown)</center>
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