By nature, I love to move, but occasionally, for reasons I will never understand, I stop. I become a certified coach potato. My recent entry to lazy-world lasted about 10 months, and followed a very active summer. I’m vowing to stop that silly cycle, and walking is my chosen way to develop an unbreakable habit.
I have made a commitment to walk at least once, 10 days a week. No, that is not a typo. When talking to a friend about my plan, I first said 5 days a week. Then I realized I cannot be trusted with options, as I will start gaming the system to try for another day off (not because I won’t want to walk so much, as I hate rules, and instinctively fight against them — even my own). So, I made the pronouncement that 5 days won’t do, I would walk 10 days per week. I decided I liked the certainty of committing to walking 10 days a week, and it has become my theme.
I’m just walking. No set distance. No preset goals. No measuring heart rate. I am not trying to lose weight (well, I always am, but that is not why I am walking). I am not training for anything. I am not on any special diet. I have no special equipment, and desire none.
I am looking for fresh air. I am looking to be more responsible with my fitness, and that of my black Lab dog. I want to be kind to my heart and lungs. I have normal blood pressure and I want to keep it. I have no sign of diabetes and I want to stay there. I am free of arthritis, and REALLY don’t want it. I want to reduce anxiety, and keep depression at bay. I want walking to be so much a part of me that it becomes my meditation.
Nothing fancy. Just Wendy walking, and walking, and walking …
Oh, yeah, I’m also forcing myself to write every day, something I have been promising myself for years.