I spent much of the day (once I got up) fighting with the computer in one manner or another. Unfortunately, that same time was spent snacking, and once I realized I had consumed half again what MFP thinks my daily goal should be entirely in snacks & lunch, I decided to go for a walk.
A couple of my friends live in a Maze of Twisty Passages All Alike (occasionally called a "subdivision") just across the busy road from where I live. Our subs open onto the same busy road, but not at the same place.
Attempting to exit my sub, I found a lot of "wet" that caused me to take to the streets. When that diminished, I returned to the sidewalks, where I found a lot of "shiny" -- some of which jerked me around a bit, but none of which caused me to completely lose my footing. I achieved the Busy Road & crossed it. I followed in the footsteps of someone else to get over the Huge Mound of snow on the other side. Those footsteps, though, went off through the tiny bit of forest that remembers what the subdivision used to be a dozen years ago. I didn't.
I turned to walk... either on or parallel to the sidewalk, who can tell. For about 2/3 of the path, I was the first person to have done this through the current snow. And this is how, before my Adventure had truly begun, my boots were filled with snow. I expected that on my return home I would discover bruises along the area of my calves above the top of my (7.25" on the inside) boots where the crisp, crunchy, and actually rather hard (but altogether too brittle) top of the snow encountered them. Repeatedly. With each step.
After about 2/3 of the path, someone else's footsteps appeared in the snow. It had melted sufficiently that I couldn't tell left from right footprints, but for the purposes of putting my feet into them it really didn't matter. Those of you who have walked with me may be as amazed and shocked as I to discover that these footsteps indicated a stride nearly twice mine, which is usually between 2.5' and 3'. (Later in my walk, true story, I discovered a discarded pogo stick. Coincidence?)
Finally arrived at the entrance to the MoTPAA. (In my daily life I am ... directionally challenged. If the road I'm on turns, my internal compass still thinks I'm going in the same direction I started out in. If I make a significant but not 90 degree turn, I think I've turned 90 degrees. After getting lost many times in the MoTPAA, I finally figured that from the one entrance to the other (on the same busy road) I need to turn left 6 times at the first opportunity and I will wind up at the other exit. I started walking along this path. At some point, walking on sidewalks that had not been shoveled (but which did not have me sinking beyond my boot-tops in the stuff) I saw what I thought would be a nice picture... and realized that I'd left my phone behind. (oops. I was expecting the spouse's return -- and subsequent phone call. I have been known to "phone a friend" and indicate what corners in the MoTPAA I am at and receive navigation. I have been known to use the GPS in the phone when there is sufficient battery.) Between 2 of my 8" or more deep holes made by my boots (they're 9" on the outside) there was a small maple leaf that had fallen. Probably due to absorbing and releasing heat over the course of a week or so, it had managed to melt itself a 2 or 3 inch hole that it was settling into. I made what I thought was the correct turn, which would, incidentally, have me walking past my friends' house. Today I must have missed a turn, though, or lost count. I never remember the number or the street name (and I don't have my phone which remembers that for me) but none of these houses that look remarkably alike really looked right. When I got to the end of that street though, it looked correct, and I turned. After travelling a short while, though, I realized that I couldn't possibly be where I thought I was. I half-joke that I'm usually 90 degrees out, except when I'm 180. This time I was only 90 degrees out, and while looking for a street to turn onto, I discovered that I WAS on the street I was looking for. *whew*.
My half hour up, and civilization reacquired, I started walking for home. Spouse had found my note and met me at the mouth of the park. We walked a but further out then turned around. Was very happy to take my wet socks off. Was less happy to see the shape of my feet. One heel was pretty well torn up. I rejoiced that it wasn't bleeding (although I had half-lost many layers of skin). Then I went to look for the anticipated bruises, and discovered that there I was bleeding. Not badly, and my jeans seem to be intact.
Calorie wise? That burnt off not quite half of one of my snacks.