Goodbye Dirt and Weekly Results, CI#48

We have been home from vacation since Tuesday and I have been literally kicking my Nikes around looking at the red clay stains on my bright, white soles.  Of course, every time I kicked them more of the fine, silty, sand fell out.

I poured them out three times in the park, once back at the hotel, and once when we got home before I dumped them on the floor.  I know this is going to sound totally nutso but here’s another one of those honest moments I promised to share–I have been emotional-on-the-verge-of-weepy about washing those millions of crimson molecules out of my shoes.

I have no rational reason.

But, are these sorts of tears supposed to rational?

Yeah, I don’t think so either.

Even as I am sitting here trying to explain my feelings I keep shaking my head blankly.

I got nuttin’.

But, the extra pain from the trip is gone and the weather pattern is supposed to be stable for a few days so that means my feet need to hit the trail. The particles are so fine they work their way through the weave of the socks to your skin where they rub and chafe.  It is as annoying as it is pleasant.

Yes, pleasant.

One of my greatest lessons over the past year or so is how much I need dirt.

The thought of taking that dirt away makes me…sad in the melancholy sort of way.

That trip changed me and I know that is part of why my souvenirs mean so much to me.  At the same time, they needed to go.  Those are really the most comfortable shoes I have ever owned.  My feet need them especially if they are headed back to the trail again.

I picked them up and more sand colored the carpet.  I took them outside to beat them together again.  Then, I put them in the washer and piled jackets and hoodies on top and sent them for a swim.

Honestly, it feels rather lost and lonely to know they are sitting in the washer wet, void of the Earth, and waiting.

Nikes.  Who knew I would a pair of shoes like this.


Now on to my weekly results:

Pounds lost~~ .2
Inches lost~~  I have no bloomin’ idea.  I did not give it a single thought to measure yesterday until very late in the day.  I did think of it early this morning but honestly eating food I did not make last night had me bloated like a toad again this morning.  Me bloated with a tape measure in my hand does not for a happy girl make.

Not bad for a vacationing, slingshot week.  I’ll take it.


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