Walking

All of our doctors sing the same song these days:


"You have to lose weight... "


Master's cardio guy insists that he doesn't know anyone who is 70 that weighs what He does. As for me, I've put on more than just a little poundage in the last couple of years -- to the point that I can't get into my "cute" clothes anymore; to the point that all of a sudden, there is medical concern about my cholesterol numbers.

"Two miles a day -- five times a week," is the prescription of the cardiologist, and he is backed by the sleep specialist, and the internal medicine folks, and on and on.


So, we've begun to walk together again. Like we did when I first arrived; and like we were doing in the year before His knee gave out and He had to go through the replacement. It is a challenge. Neither of us are in the best of shape. Cincinnati in the summer can be devilishly hot. Time seems to be always at a premium. All of those are arrayed against us.



But we've begun the process. We try to get going early in the morning, before the heat grows too intense and before He has to leave for work. We aren't anywhere close to doing two miles yet (even though we used to do six before), but our one mile walks are getting easier and we are moving more quickly each day. I remember how this goes. We'll get better each day, and soon we'll have the two miles a day thing down.



I enjoy it, actually. When we walk, we talk. We're together. We get out and see our community; wave to neighbors; pet their dogs. It is pleasant and relaxing, and it buoys my mood. The longer-term payoffs are mostly still on the horizon -- but we're walking toward them. It is just a matter of time.



swan