Apparently God Wants Me to Exercise

I promise not to let this blog descend into syrupy sonnets about my new dog. Let's face it, though. Old people and dogs - it's pretty disgusting to watch! Sheila and I are turning into THOSE people who have a dog that we lavish our attention on because our children are pretty much fed up with us obsessing over them and if we don't dote over something, we'll probably melt down. Not a lot of grandkids running around here, so Daisy, our half lab, half border collie gets the full treatment.

Haven't heard this much baby talk since Meghan was born.

As I said in an earlier post, I believe Daisy was a gift from God. Apparently, God gave her to us because he wants me to exercise! In the 3 weeks since we found her, I've walked 1 to 2 miles a day EVERY day and sometimes twice a day. I've now officially lost 20 pounds, quit worrying about dieting AND had to take in my belt two notches! My fat pants are getting loose on me and I laid about 10 concrete patio flagstones today and did not have a heat stroke or coronary arrest.

My feet hurt, I've got bunions and blisters, but I can, in just 3 weeks, walk two miles at a rapid rate without falling over in the ditch to "have a little rest". A month ago, I got winded running up the stairs.

I've also found that I'm more alert, write faster and feel more "up". And no, I am not going to get all self-righteous about fitness and start pestering you guys to go exercise. After all, it took God to get me out doing road work and he gave me a coach that thinks going 2 miles instead of one when I really wanted to turn back at about half a mile is a jim dandy idea!

I'm thinking of painting sergeant stripes on the dog! I feel like I'm in boot camp with a hyperkinetic D.I. dragging my short legs up hill and over dale.

I'm going to bed now. I have to get up at 5 am and mow the lawn. My other sergeant is in charge of lawn care duty!

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