Exercise, bah!

Everyone who knows me, knows that I hate exercise. Absolutely loathe and despise it. I'd rather go to the garden and pick worms. I do go to the garden and pick dandelions.

Everyone who knows me also knows that I like to be on top of my game, mine and my true-love's. I know that exercise is good for us. Do I not send my true-love to the gym twice a week? Do I not send my true-love on the dog walk everyday?

Alas and alack! The benefits of his exertions do not extend to me. However, his dog's pleading eyes do not leave me unmoved, so I do, occasionally, whirl the beast around the block as fast as we can go, reaping something positive along the way. I hope.

The difference between walking inside the house and pretty much any where else, is truly amazing. In the house, you never really stretch; it is the breeding ground for 'the old person shuffle'. Yes, the mall is inside, but it's such a roomy inside, that it might almost be outside! Granted, the mall is smoother than the sidewalk and flatter than a hillside, but I'm more and more convinced that it's all about the stretchy walking. Just letting those legs move along without being tripped up by carpets and furniture appears to be the thing.


I see this on family members, so I'm not talking through my hat. Having admitted as much, you will be seeing me on the dog walk more often. Except when it's cold and then I shall be at the mall.