Exercise. Really.

I can’t believe it’s come to this. I’m blogging about exercise.

When it comes to exercise, I’m generally against it. I blame my junior high PE teachers, sadists who took all the fun out of of the subject. I had to take 3 semesters of PE in college, and that was actually sort of fun–I did bowling, racquetball, and self-defense. But that was centuries ago, and since then I’ve avoided most exercise.

Except walking. I love walking–but only when I travel. My favorite way to tour is on foot, and I’m apt to walk many miles (or kilometers, as the case may be) when I’m away from home.

But walking around my neighborhood is hot and dead boring. I have a choice between beige stucco houses or, if I walk the canal, dairy cows, orchards, and cornfields. And lizards and ants. Not exactly the streets of Paris.

So I avoided walking at home. I drove. That’s what Californians do, after all.

But a couple months ago I bought a Fitbit. And because I’m somewhat, ahem, compulsive, having all those goals and charts totally did it for me. I now walk 3 or more miles almost every evening. Sometimes my husband or my teenage daughter walks with me, which is fun. When I walk alone, I listen to audiobooks, which is also fun. I’ve been known to take an extra spin around the block if I’m in the middle of a good part. I’ve worn through one pair of walking shoes already.

I’ve also found that walking is an excellent way to sublimate the frustrations of my day job. And I get plot ideas! Today a terrific plot bunny hopped into my path at about the 2 mile mark.

One of my colleagues sometimes wears a T-shirt from some 20K “fun run”. Running 20K would not ever, under any circumstances, be fun to me. I doubt I’ll ever go the extra step (figuratively speaking) and take up running instead. But for once I’m actually enjoying exercise. Who could have predicted that?


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