it's about time

I speak to Pam.  “When are we going to start walking again?”  “Soon,” I respond but it never seems to happen.  I love walking with Pam but I need to walk a mile before we meet, and my problem seems to be getting out the door.

“Sunday is supposed to be nice,” Ellen says on Thursday.  “Let’s walk.”  “Great,” I say, but that doesn’t happen either.

I bump into Nancy in front of Agata’s on Friday.  “When I get back from Florida, let’s start walking,” she says.  “I’d love that,” I respond.  I hope it happens but my track record has not been good.

My 84-year old mother walks 3 miles, five times a week, regardless of weather.

I get up at seven; today I will walk.  But I’m easily distracted.  I make a pot of coffee.  I look at some emails.  I turn on The Today Show. Severely injured runners from last year’s Boston Marathon are running again today.

I lace up my shoes.   Put on my Nike Fuel Band.  Spend ten minutes looking for my little nano.  Spend another ten minutes charging it up.  And I leave.

It feels good.  I walk some, run some.  No one to keep pace with.  No one to talk to either, so I get lost in my own thoughts.  Through the city streets, cherry blossoms on every block. To the reservoir in Central Park, around it, and back.

3.6 miles. 7,524 steps. 1,895 fuel points. 

Nice start to the day.