Yesterday I did the walk
for Multiple Sclerosis that was held in Reston. This is the first time I’ve
done it since my
friend David’s death. I’ve been feeling pretty ratty lately—everything pisses
me off—and I almost bagged it. But realized that wasn’t really an option.
On the ratty side, it’s
really annoying to me that the organizers here in the National Capital Area do
such a cursory job at this. The walks I did in the Valley They Call Silicon
were just amazing. They always left me feeling energized and grateful; one of
the things I found so wonderful was the enthusiastic
participation of high school students, and the almost
festival atmosphere. Maybe it was that it was held in a park, and not in a
faux urban “town center” run by Boston Properties where they just want you to
get the hell out before the punters show up, but in Los Gatos people were in
for the day, with chairs and tables provided both before and after the walk for
people to socialize.
Maybe it’s just the
difference between California and Virginia.
(Also, in years past,
the Reston
walk route went through actual wooded areas, for which the community is
famous. This time…it was through gardens of concrete; ugh.)
Well, anyhow—I hauled my
sorry ass out to the faux urban center and around the uglified route for three
miles, and I am profoundly grateful that I could do it—that, sorry as my ass
is, I had the muscular control to get out and walk. And that I could also contribute
monetarily to the National MS Society to help fund research.
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