I had a call from an old camping, biking and kayaking friend, Henry Billingsley. He expressed some concerns over my current condition.
“John…man, I’m bothered. I’ve always thought of you as practically indestructible and now you seem to be falling apart,” he said.
“That’s because I am,” I replied.
But not really. I suppose the foot issues, which have certainly held me back for going on two months, are problematic, but at least I see some form of a light at the end of the tunnel...not on this day though.
I had problems with our electric fence at the farm again, which meant walking a couple of miles of fence line trying to detect anything that might impede the voltage flow. The horses had been leaning against the fence in their effort to get at the grass on the other side, which meant the jolt wasn’t enough to discourage them. In fact, I’d tested it by grabbing it myself before going on my search and found the pulsing charge, while uncomfortable, didn’t really bother me. How much could it bother a horse weighing 1,200 pounds and trying to get at the equivalent of a quart of Breyer’s vanilla ice cream?
After several hours of checking, I called my electrician to have a look. He checked the main power supply and found everything to be fine, but I did notice him reversing the way the two ends of the plugs were attached to activate the fence. I placed my voltage tester on the wire and found the reading no different than when I’d called him out
“It’s still reading…yeeaaahhhh….” I yelped as I released my hand from the fence.
“Holy shit, Mike, what did you do? I just got enough of a jolt to push a horse off the fence,” I said, shaking my arm while still feeling the tingle in my toes.
“Maybe the polarity changed when I reversed the way it was plugged in. It should go this way.” He demonstrated the appropriate way to have the ends plugged all the while telling me it wasn’t grounded and that the whole thing should be reworked.
“So my meter reader won’t tell me if it’s in correctly and the only way I can tell if I’m fully charged is to grab the fence and light myself up again?”
“That…get someone else to grab it…or have me do it right,” he said. He gave me the estimate for the necessary work, which caused me to think about who might take a jolt for the team each day to be sure we had full power to the fence. Justin was a possibility, but he was only part-time.
“Alright…schedule a time to come in a fix it right,” I said.
I left the farm with 11,000 steps and went to Mimi’s to fertilize her lawn and do some other yard work. I left there with extreme pain in my foot and still owning a commitment to meet Kimberly for a walk in the park. I thought I’d have time to ice my foot before going, but received a text from her saying she was drowning and would appreciate a ride back to her car. She’d started walking without me.
I grabbed Dakota and headed for the park where I found her on a bench. It had stopped raining and when I heard she had more steps than me for the day, I became jealous and suggested we walk some more. Had I thought this through, I would have realized she’d be matching my steps, but thinking things through is completely over-rated. By the time I returned to the car, I was over 15,000 steps and my foot was screaming.
I iced at home for thirty minutes before Jason came to pick me up for a trip to Mill Tavern, a burger and some time watching the game and shooting the breeze. An hour later, when I climbed off the barstool and put my foot to the floor, I realized just how much pain 15,000 steps could cause. Jason watched me limp and grimace and suggested he pull the car up to the door.
“Hell no! It’ll get better after a few more steps,” I said…convincing no one.
So yes, Henry, I’m damaged goods, but no, I’m not on the sidelines or ready to be put down just yet. I shouldn’t try for 15,000 steps though, at least not for another couple of months.
Bonus: 15,500 steps.
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