Shake a Leg!

I told you last week about my conversation with my doctor regarding my recent decreased lung function. I told her my plan was to walk every day on my way to "the office." However, the weather had been cold and wet and, generally, unenticing. I walked around the block one day when I got home from doing the banking for my boss. My block is only ten minutes around, so I need to make it two blocks or more. But regardless, I haven't done it. My butt is not off the chair. I am not exercising.

I've decided to learn enough golf to be able to play a few rounds when the Jazzman and I go to the lake for the week of July 4th. We were going to go to the Par 3 course at Mill Creek Metroparks on Sunday morning, but we ended up working on the house instead. So when he said he had a 2:30 tee time with his golf buddies, I suddenly decided I was going to go walk along with them.

When we arrived at the Mill Creek course, all the wives had come along, so I paired up with the wives and walked the three-mile course. I watched everything they were doing—each stance, each swing—and felt I would be welcomed by this group, no matter how poorly I played. (I've always heard that in golf you're only playing against yourself, anyway.)

Now, when I say I walked the three-mile course, please be mindful that it was not constant, steady, fast-paced walking. It was walk to the first tee, wait for the two young guys ahead of us to clear the green, then hit-chase-hit-chase the ball until we got to the green, then walk to the next tee and repeat. It was a lot of standing, some walking, and two sit-downs on available benches.

I'm not complaining; let's be clear about that! I'm just saying it wasn't exactly aerobic activity. But activity it was. When I woke up on Monday morning, I could hardly get my body out of the bed. Every muscle and tendon—and, yes, even my bones—hurt. Ached. Burned. If ever there was an indicator that I'm out of shape physically, my sensations on Monday morning were the clear indicator.

Must. Get. Exercise.

But, oh, what a gorgeous day it was in the Mahoning Valley on Sunday afternoon. Blue skies, puffy clouds, around 72 degrees.

It was the kind of day that makes up for all the gray, rainy, cold, snowy, foggy, cloudy days that seem to be in abundance in this part of the world.

Until I master what to do with clubs and little white balls, I'm perfectly happy walking a round or two with my friends.