Claire Gillian

On a recent trip to Costco, the Silverback and I each purchased a pair of Nordic Walking Poles (pictured). We convinced ourselves we’d walk more frequently and more effectively with said poles in our hands. The first week, they sat in the garage, still in their boxes. Today, after deferring our walk from 9 AM to noon to 3 PM, we finally set out at nearly 4 PM. First order of business was determining what length the poles should be.

Me: Should they be ergonomically correct with the elbow at a ninety degree angle when the arm hangs down or should they be longer or shorter?

Silverback: I don’t know. Whatever’s comfortable I suppose.

After futzing around with the things for at least twenty minutes we were off.

First, the dog did not approve of the sticks and was constantly checking over her shoulder to see if she was in danger of being stabbed. The Silverback attached her leash to his belt loop keeping her a few paces behind him. As the beta female who I expect to challenge me for alpha bitch any day now, she was not happy about this either. But such is a dog’s life.

Use of the sticks proved challenging too.

Me: How do we hold them?

Silverback: Not like you’re doing. The little feet at the bottom need to both point forward. One of yours is gimpy.

Me: Why would that matter? The surface area is like one square inch.

Silverback: Alright but when you start veering off to the side and walking around in circles, don’t come crying to me.

Me: I think we need to take a training course in the proper use of these things. I have no idea what I’m doing. Do we move the poles independently in a walking stride or do we use them like ski poles and we’re shushing across a flat part?

Silverback: I’m shushing.

Me: Was there a book or pamphlet that came with the sticks?

Silverback: They’re not sticks, they’re walking poles. And no, no manual just three different tips–one for all terrain, one for sand and one for snow.

Me: (laughing) You’re kidding right?

Silverback: No, I’m not. These are the all terrain tips on them now. Watch out for that slug.

Me: (shuddering) Whatever. My shoulder hurts. I think mine are too long. (We stop for five minutes adjusting the length of my poles while the dog runs around off leash scattering her #2 business in her typical fifty foot radius.

We take off walking again, garnering a few stares from the younger crowd. Why wouldn’t they stare?

We get about a quarter into our usual route when I feel a pole poke me in the butt.

Not the Silverback

Silverback: Slow down a little will you?

Me: Where’s the speed control on these things? I can’t help but go faster and faster. It’s like wearing the magical dancing shoes. No matter how tired you are, the slippers force you to keep dancing!

Silverback: Well, that’s stupid. Just stop for a second. (He catches up.) There! Was that so hard?

Me: You couldn’t have increased your speed to catch me?

Silverback: I do have the dog to consider, remember. I’ll bet no one’s seen people using walking poles around here before.

Me: We got them at Costco. That means we’ll see everyone and his brother using these things before long.

Silverback: Yeah, but we’re the cool kids who got them first.

A yard full of children point at us and laugh.

Me: Yeah, real cool.

Silverback: I think they’d make decent disciplinary implements too.

It starts to rain.

The couple that sprinted past us.

Me: They should have put umbrellas in the tops of these things so they aren’t just pretty faces.

Silverback: I think they’d be better if they put weights in them, in the middle. Course, I guess we could just walk with weights in our hands instead.

Me: I’ve seen people do that, and walk carrying umbrellas.

We continue to walk and nearly two hours and a Starbucks latte later, we’re back in our own neighborhood.

Me: These poles are all that are keeping me moving now, I’m so tired.

Silverback: I feel like I’m on autopilot.

Me: I’ll bet my arms are sore tomorrow.

Silverback: (laughs) Oookay.

Me: Do you think the kids even missed us?

Silverback: Probably not. Here we are. Give me your poles. I’ll tether these babies in the garage.

Me: Be sure to give them a good rub-down. They worked hard today.

The Norwegian National Pole Walking Champions, Gunnar and Dagmar Ericksen.

Brackley Nordic Walking (kathbonnerdunham.wordpress.com)
US Nordic Walking Pioneer to be Honored by Global Nordic Walking Organization (prweb.com)

Blurb:

As an architect who specializes in restorations, Sara Wiley is a genius at returning neglected structures to their former glory. But when it comes to her own life, she has no idea how to reclaim the ruins, which are all that remain of her first true love.

When the biggest opportunity of her career and a sexy contractor comes her way, she’s thrilled…until she learns that the client is the long-ago boy who captured her heart and continues to invade her dreams. Is it a bittersweet coincidence or might there be a chance, after all, for Sara to revisit the mistakes of her past and build the future she has wanted for so long?

Excerpt:

Why am I doing this? she asked herself when she climbed into the cab, the next evening. Having dinner with him certainly isn’t going to help me get him out of my dreams.

As she got out, in front of O’Reilly’s, she was startled by her own reflection, and silently thanked Cat for assembling her outfit of dark skinny jeans, pink chiffon top with spaghetti straps and strappy silver sandals. At Cat’s insistence, she had worn her hair long and loose. She had added her favorite dangling silver earrings and a matching chain and pendant just before she walked out the door. If clothing was armor, she was as well equipped as she could manage for the coming conversation.

She found Will at the crowded bar, where he kissed her on the cheek and gave her his seat.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

He ordered two martinis, and they began talking about the Hanson House. From there, the conversation turned naturally to their jobs. As Sara had expected, Will explained that he traveled all over the world and spent only a few weeks out of the year at his apartment in Santa Monica.

While he spoke, she stared at his mouth, remembering how his kisses felt on her lips. A glance at his hands awoke her memory of the way they had encircled her waist as she made love to him.

Stop it, she ordered herself sternly, and shook her head.

“Are you okay?”

Oh shit. I didn’t say that out loud, did I? “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” she answered with a laugh.

“Now that we’ve made a dent in these martinis,” he said, looking down at his glass, “I have to tell you… You broke my heart, that last night we were together. I really loved you, Sara.”