Running running gone...

I hate running. I really do. My heart sank when I recieved the week's program and saw that it included running.

I live in a village that was made for runners.  It's far from the choking smoke of the city. Trees line the wide sidewalks and the hills alternately roll and then jut into planes. In fact, my only worry are the joggers who bring their dogs. I am not an animal lover, and each time I see Mr. D running with his salivating doberman, I duck and head for the nearest tree. You never know when you have climb one up like a scaredy-cat.

I used to not run because I always thought that I had to push myself until I was red and panting like crazy, which is not a good idea if when snarling dogs are fast approaching. Or when cute male joggers pass by.

But here, the program says I can take it easy. The improtant thing is to start something and start pushing (nudging) yourself a little more each day.

I can live with that.

Hell, if I walk, stroll, jog, skip, walk, and stroll again, it'll be OK. I love it.

The bottomline? Push yourself, don't kill yourself.

That way you don't look like easy pickings for dogs. Or cute male joggers.