100 Kilometers and Boot Sightings

Last Thursday I arrived at a crazy-huge hotel where a conference I am attending is being held. Upon arrival, we were provided a pedometer as a fun little item to promote health (walking) and to inspire a competition among the staff about who walked the most. Since arrival until writing this message on Monday evening, I have walked 100km (>62 miles). Wow!

It’s not hard to walk a lot in this place. My hotel room is 1km (0.6 miles) to the location where most of the rest of the conference is going on. So if I walk to and from my hotel room just once, I have walked over a mile. Or like today, when I had to go back and forth four times, I logged 8km (4.9 miles.)

Then the meeting rooms and other locations where various functions are going on are also far apart. I am averaging about 18km (11 miles) of walking — in cowboy boots — each day. My colleagues look mighty uncomfortable in their dress shoes, poor fellas.

I walk at a brisk pace. With all of the indoor waterfalls and fountains, the air is rather damp and humid. It makes the walk less enjoyable because it causes me to sweat a lot — especially since I have to wear a shirt, noose, and a jacket all day. Yuck.

But the bright side is that I am indeed walking a lot, and I need to do that. I look forward to walking more when I get home — in comfortable jeans, t-shirt, and boots better designed for walking.

Boot sightings: They held a conference social event last night which was themed around country music. We were allowed to dress “casual” (thank goodness, I could ditch that damn tie!) I put on my cowboy boots, jeans, western shirt, and straw cowboy hat and strolled over to the place. I fit right in, as a lot of other men were dressed the same. They had a good band, and a group of dancers. Man, can those lithe young men dance in those tight jeans and boots!

I decided that I should get something to eat and got in the buffet line. Unfortunately, all that was offered was barbecue pork, beef, or chicken. I can’t eat meats soaked in barbecue sauce. Last year, such food sent me to the emergency room! Other choices of foods were tossed salad, cole slaw, and corn — none of which I can eat, either.

Oh well, I grabbed a ginger ale and sat on a wall for some boot watching. In about 30 minutes I probably spotted over 100 men in cowboy boots. Nice change from playing dress-up all week. They looked more comfortable and relaxed, too.

I got tired of that, and felt my intestines beginning to turn (probably from last night’s meal), so I started to head back. I am glad I did, as by the time I walked that two miles back to my room, I … er… “wasn’t feeling well.” Geesh, I hate not being able to eat various foods most others enjoy. Called it an early night by 8:00pm. I’m just not the party boy nor dancer. Never was, never will be. Plus, I’m getting a little homesick for my man, whose arms I will be snuggled in soon. Can’t wait.

Life is short: wear your boots!