So I went on a walk today in my quest to get back into shape. (And by “in shape” I simply mean able to do a simple hike at Yosemite without panting and having my lungs feel like knives are ripping into them. …) Sheesh. …
Plus, I need to lose weight, and I know exercise is a huge factor I always ignore.
So the quest was on. I decided to start by carving out a simple hour on the weekend. When I was younger (and more spontaneous and less picky), I think I used to be able to just “go on a walk” without much difficulty. But now … holy cow … now the moon needs to align with Saturn for things to be “just right” for exercise.
First, I couldn’t find my old running shoes. Well, I couldn’t find ONE shoe (which is really the same thing, right?). One was right there in my closet, but the other was nowhere. I remembered that my daughter borrowed them once for P.E. early this year, and I tried to picture where she might fling them when finished. I looked under the bed, in the depths of the closet, under the nightstands, in her room, in her bathroom. Argh. Plan thwarted. Back to bed.
The next week, I had found the shoe (it was under my armoire, by the way), but when I went to get ready, I realized I didn’t have any socks. I tried to hobble together some combination of my daughter’s socks (which are quite huge) and my husband’s (which, as we’ve discussed here, are BLACK), but I couldn’t bring myself to go out into public like that. Plan thwarted. Back to bed. Continue reading