On The Road Again

So my job searching activities tie up no more than two hours a day, all in.

My lawn had at one point consumed most of a week but is on a maintenance plan that only drives me to distraction a few hours a week.

Keeping the house from looking and smelling like Grey Gardens is an ongoing chore but I have managed to get my reluctant, grousing children to help, if not voluntarily, by force.

Which leaves me with all the time in the world to whip my ass into kickboxer's shape. Most people would love to have the time. I am not so sure I am grateful.

I am not joining a gym. I am not taking a fitness class. I've purchased no workout videos. I am not buying any equipment to sit idly between the  treadmill and the kitty litter box in a room only the cats dare venture into.

No. I walk.

The truth of the matter is that I have always walked. For a lot of reasons. To stay in shape. To think and make decisions. To clear my head of murderous thoughts. Yes, walking has always kept me on the right side of the locked doors to the loony bin. And when I was getting divorced, walking kept me on the right side of the prison bars. I quite literally walked until I felt like I could go home and not murder Lars. Either out of exhaustion or indifference.

Scott and I would walk for hours on weekend together. On the beach. On the boardwalk. On a road connecting a bunch of marshy islands near his home. And when we were at my house, I'd ask him to join me on the trails in the State Park near my home. The exercise, the nature. It was all good for us.

And when Scott vaporized without a trace in the Fall, I had taken to the track and the trails again. For many reasons.

I had so much nervous energy I could not sleep. I went out to walk to exhaustion.

And since I'd not slept, I'd gotten sick. I needed to rebuild my strength. Walking would do that without actually killing me first.

And I wanted to get in great shape. Dating shape. I was already thin. And getting thinner. I had Scott to thank for that. I am a good one to drop and easy 5 pounds at the first sign of trouble, and his unique variety of trouble was loaded for bear. I was suddenly super skinny but not necessarily looking good. Nobody likes a skinny flabby chick. I needed to tighten all the nuts and bolts and eliminate all rattling and jiggling.

And now, when I needed time to think about my job and sort out some other pieces of my life, I took to the track and trails again.

I downloaded an app on my phone that tracks miles and calories and speed and a whole lot of other nifty motivating little things.

I bought new cross training shoes and began a daily habit of walking. And walking far.