I just have to stop and walk for a second.
The pain -- which was supposed to strengthen -- felt like strangulation. I would run farther, in a moment. But, oh, the bliss of slower steps and even breathing!
I'll get off here and walk the rest.
The bus could deliver me to the door, but I would walk the last couple miles. I was on my own in the world, finally, putting one foot in front of the other. Even when the snot froze inside my nose.
I'm going to take the dog for a walk.
I left behind a pile of dishes, a crying baby, two children bouncing off the walls, and the most supportive husband who ever kicked his wife out the door for some much needed breathing space. I would go back inside after I walked off the day's chaos and regained my sense of self.