How Is This Walk A Routine?

She walked the same road everyday, 
Going up in the morning with a heavy shoulder, 
Going down, easier, 
One would call it routine, 
Going up, the sun burned her skin, 
She saw the dust shine in the rays, 
Giving the air this misty feel, 
It gave her an opportunity for a grand entrance, 
She'd walk out of it in slow motion, 
Coughing her lungs out.
Going down, she saw the sun through the leaves, 
The golden hour light made her skin glow, 
Did I mention she was all sweaty?
The wind a little chilly, 
But the dust a constant, 
This time that slow entrance ended with a sneeze. 
The next day, it rained, 
A speeding car splashed water off the puddles, 
Making rainbows low on the ground, 
This time her entrance dreamlike, 
Until another car decided to speed next to her. 
How was this walk a routine?

-Yet Another Thing.