I fall on the floor laughing. She is not amused. I tell her I will WALK for a mile and see how I feel. She says through clenched teeth that I had better Step Smartly.
By the second quarter mile I am stepping a little smarter, and enjoying it much more than any treadmill in any gym. And like the only thing I like about the treadmill, I like that I can measure how far I am going.
I know it doesn't seem like a lot to walk a mile (stepping smartly) but I recognize it's a start. And while I secretly vow to increase it as time goes on, the Official Position is that This. Is. It.
See, Beloved is very naturally sporty. She was an Olympic caliber athlete in her youth. And she was always the winner. So she has this weird concept of pushing me beyond my capabilities as if some brilliant light will go off in my head and I will run in the marathon in November. The only thing that goes off is my bloody temper and I start to scheme about a divorce. Except I love her madly.
She isn't happy unless she is exhausted after a workout. I am conscious that I have to bicycle home after this. And that I want to live to tell about it.
So there you have it. The first week we settled into two forms of exercise -what I thought of as gentle biking and gentle walking. I either walked 1-1.5 miles on the track or biked for 4-6 miles.
And it was good.
As you may have predicted, Beloved has other plans.
As of 4/27/08: