I am obviously a big proponent of exercise. I think it improves basically every aspect of one's life. Duh: physical health, mental health, time to relax, whate'r. But since moving to the city I have been very conscious of how my exercise regimen allows me to go the extra mile in a literal sense. When the bus is coming, I can run to catch it. When it's time to pick a dinner place, I don't feel like I have to stay on on block. I'll walk and walk and walk to get what I want. It wouldn't occur to me to stay in because I am tired of climbing stairs--even though by going out I am guaranteeing I'll have to do the three flights yet again. I'm down.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Tonight we finished the Costco tub of peanut butter filled pretzels. I already miss them. It was a quiet night of grading. At about nine Bisque started lacing his sneaks for a run and asked if I wanted to join. It is particularly perfect fall evening, so I did. I mentioned as we passed the harbor how nice it is that I can run three miles just because. That's not something I could always do. In fact, until about five years ago, running three miles would be a pretty sizable challenge for me. It is really hard to understand how that was ever possible because it's just a half hour activity! Why did I ever think jogging for half an hour is something to fear? There are 48 half hours in a day. I do so many things for half an hour. Why didn't I see running could easily be one of them?