Because I’m a full size woman, some people think it benefits me for them to tell me ways I can lose weight.

My favorite advice is when some skinny smart-aleck says, “Just stop eating”.

Wow, genius, I wish I had thought about that!

Although, I have had some good and beneficial advice through the years, nothing ever comes easy. If it did, I guess I wouldn’t continue to need it. With all the advice given, the most common denominator is get out and get some exercise.

I’ve been walking 3 miles almost every day for about 6 weeks, and to tell you the truth I don’t see what all the fuss is about exercising. In fact, I agree with the Bible, exercise is so over-rated. Well, the Bible doesn’t say it’s over-rated in those exact words, but it does say it doesn’t profit us much. (1 Timothy 4:8)

Seriously, I start out each morning dreading going on my walk. In the first place, I have to change out of my comfy pajamas before 6:00 and tug on my socks and shoes (although it has been easier since I lost 8 inches off my waist). Then I force some kind of energy food down my throat, so I will have enough strength to make it back to homeschool daughters #4 and #5. I go out into the cold, dark morning (well, so far it’s been pretty nice, but I’m thinking ahead). Then I unleash an over-excited border collie, who runs ahead and then back to me several times as I’m treading up and slipping down TWO long, precarious hills. Finally reaching the blacktop of a busy highway, I must keep the dog and myself out of harm’s way as we dodge and dart between all the cars and trucks (okay that may be a little exaggerated, but sometimes a vehicle does pass by).

Then horror of horrors! I have to come back home over the same two hills I had to climb in the first place, but this time the most dangerous hill is like a mountain standing between me and survival! When I first started walking, I literally had to stop 4, maybe 5, times before reaching the top. And even though I can usually make it to the top with only one stop, my heart begins beating so hard I’m afraid it will burst through my chest and my breath comes in quick, unsteady gasps leaving me barely conscious to make it all the way up the hill. My calves and quads begin to burn and ache (what if they freeze up and I can’t make it home?). My only choice is to stop and rest before my whole body shuts down. Seriously, how can this be good for me?

I finally make it home, stumble into the door (after watering Baxter), grab my water, and take a long, deep drink of it before switching on the ceiling fan and collapsing on the couch, where I’m forced to recover for the next 15 minutes.

And then this brings on a much bigger problem in my life. The people who know that I walk (and are responsible for encouraging me to get exercise) have turned me into a liar. I’m not kidding. The same people responsible for the trauma exercise has brought into my life, have now forced me to lie to them. The conversation usually goes like this:

Them: “So, are you still walking?”

Me: “Yeah”.

Them: “Great! I’m excited for you. Aren’t you glad you started?”

Me: “Yeah”.

Them: “Exercise is really good for you. Don’t you feel better?”

Me: “Yeah”.

Them: “Well keep it up. Don’t you feel like you have more energy?”

Me: “Yeah”.

What I want to say is “No, No, No”, I’m not glad to be exercising, I don’t feel better at 6:00 in the morning, and I don’t have more energy until after I’ve crashed on the couch. However, that would make them feel badly and make me sound like I don’t appreciate the benefits of walking. So, if you have any respect for me at all, the next time you see me please don’t ask.

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