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I did walk tonight. Not with gusto; I was unfortunately a couple of minutes slower than usual. I felt stiff and awkward, like a poorly-made wind-up toy (have I used that analogy before? It must be apt). But I was out there, at least. Another 3.69 miles logged, regardless of the fact that I was a tiny bit slower than normal. The iPod was dead, again. Perhaps I can blame my poor time on that. My own fault; it’s been here all along. It just loses battery now whether or not it’s in use, and I forget that.  Annoying.

I find that I relate more to the larger, struggling people than the thin, athletically-built ones. I’m not sure my assessment is accurate, but it is how I feel. There was a couple jogging on the path, both in good shape. She had long, muscular legs free of even a hint of cellulite (and yes, I was jealous; she was also 20-something, so there’s that). They breezed by me early on, not surprisingly. What was surprising, at least from my standpoint, was that when they slowed to a walk I caught them within a few minutes and passed them. I never saw them after that.

I am a fast walker; I know that much. While I am generally lazy in most areas, this has always been the case. It comes from years and years of not having a driver’s license. When I lived in Chicago, I walked everywhere. I used public transportation as well, but walking was my habit. As it was more of a means to get me where I was going than an amble and enjoy the scenery kind of thing, I became pretty fast. In college, regardless of where my weight happened to be, my legs were fairly muscular. They got an occasional comment, although not necessarily the kind that I interpreted as flattering. I think I’m built like I come from sturdy peasant stock, which seems possible, if you searched back far enough. Whatever, I can cover a lot of ground. And I do. If I walk, it’s always to the end of the path and back. No half-measures. Don’t get me wrong, I’m tough to motivate, and I spend a lot of time bonding with my couch. But if I can get past that and out the door, it’s always the full walk. Never a mile, or two miles. Always 3.69 miles. Maybe that’s part of what keeps me stuck, in a way. If I don’t think I have the full hour in me, I won’t go at all.

We had breakfast for dinner, something else that got my butt out the door tonight. I ate relatively little earlier as well, in preparation. French toast and turkey bacon. Delicious! Evil, yes, but so damned good. Oh, and more blueberries. Avery is a blueberry eating machine. An eating machine, period. Her current growth spurt means she asks for food as often as every 30 minutes some days. Scary, but impressive. She grew 3/4″ last month alone.

Okay, I must wrap this up. I hope I end up writing that I walked again tomorrow. I hope my time improves, too. That’s going to bug me. It’s not enough to walk, of course. I need to be meeting or beating my time, every time. Yep. Me, in a nutshell. Emphasis on the “nut.”

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