Packing Heavy

Even Before Coronavirus (BC), I was bogged down with paraphernalia any time I went for a jog. I needed my keys, wallet, phone, reading glasses, sun glasses, handkerchief, Fitbit watch, breath drops, and some gloves to hold cold or frozen water. Because of my skin cancer history, I always lather up with sunscreen and wear a hat, no matter the weather. The exhausting preparation ritual provides temptation to forego the jog entirely. My pockets are so weighted down, I can hardly keep my running shorts up without tightening my belt to the point I cannot breathe. I waddle and rattle. I do not add earphones to listen to music, partly because I want to hear all the encouragement people shout at me. The guy working up on a power pole was so impressed he yelled, “Way to go, Bucko!” Or maybe he said, “Wait, go back now!” I cannot hear so well with all the traffic noise but he sure was excited about my running. The driver at the stoplight yelled, “You’re cruising; onward stud!” Or it could have been, “You’re crossing on red, stupid!” At least when I hike, I can toss all the gear in the backpack and let my shoulders bear the brunt of the load. Now in the time After Disease (AD), I also need to wear a mask and keep hand sanitizer in the car. But I get to leave the tiny breath drop container at home because I better not be breathing on anyone. I am getting so used to my bad breath trapped in the mask that I may forget to use the breath drops long after the masks disappear. I am fairly certain my wife will remind me as she enjoys monitoring my hygiene.