Walking

I’ve been walking a lot.

Now that winter seems well and truly behind us, and we’re getting the occasional, sunny day, I’ve tried to spend as much time as I can outside. Walking around the neighborhood, walking up the road, even getting dropped off somewhere else in town and walking around there—whenever I can, I’m trying to exercise and enjoy the outside.

When the weather’s crap, I turn into a total lump. The cushions on the couch, the seat of my chair–they slowly adopt the contours of my derriere and my body goes to hell. More aches, more pains, less sleep.

Especially in the winter.

Especially this last winter.

I don’t think I can point to any other four-month period of my life when I had so many muscle and joint problems, or had so many colds and bugs, as I did from this past November through February.

And that was pretty much the last straw.

This spring, summer, and fall, I’ve decided that I’m getting into shape or die trying. Not to run a marathon or go white-water rafting or anything like that. No. My goals are simple: sleep through the night, and not have to gasp for air while climbing a gentle hill.

Exercise has always, always helped me sleep better. And as for that whole “breathing” thing: it’d be a lot better if I quit smoking, but losing a solid 50 pounds and doing some cardio won’t hurt, either.

Besides, it gives me a great excuse to drag my camera out every day.

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