"You're not Superman..."

You know what? She's right.

I got up early yesterday for my quiet time and quickly realized that I was going to be fighting off drowsiness the whole time (does that ever happen to you? Probably not.) so I decided to go for a prayer walk.

As I got dressed, I thought that I should grab some candy on my way out to carry with me (I'm a diabetic). All the while, I'm trying not to wake Beth. I write her a note, knowing that she'll most likely wake up before I return and quietly head out the door.

It's a beautiful morning -- warm and foggy -- and it feels good to be out walking along with the Lord at my side. The circuit I'm taking will end up being close to three miles. Nearly a mile in, I realize that I'm going to need to find a toilet. Then I remember that about a block ahead is the construction site of a new house. Whew! Viva la port-a-potties!

I continue on and the skies begin to darken. Before long the clouds release their bounty and I find myself walking in a downpour. I'm about two-thirds on. About that same time I feel as if my blood sugar level is dropping, so I reach into my pocket for the candy that is still sitting on the kitchen counter. Oy!

At this point I'm listening to my body with great intensity, trying to determine if I can make it home before I bottom out, or if I need to call Beth to come rescue me. You see, (if you don't know this) when an insulin-dependent diabetic like myself experiences low blood sugar, it quickly becomes a matter of life and death.

I pass a friend's house and think, "Sure would be nice if they happened to come out of the their front door right now and I could ask for some juice or something." But it's 7:15 Saturday morning. What are the chances? Maybe knock? Nah.

So I slog on. When I reach the next intersection, I realize that I need to call Beth to come with candy to get me. "Bring a towel, too."

As I'm waiting, my friend, whose house I just passed, drives past. He doesn't see me. Oh well.

A minute later, Beth pulls up and I lean in to arrange the towel so that I don't soak the seat. As she turns the car around and heads back towards our house, she asks me what I was thinking, not having eaten before my walk and not having brought any candy with me. At that point she reminds me of the lack of similarities I possess compared to said superhero.

Next time I'll keep in mind the motto of the Boy Scouts: Be Prepared.