And...the escapade continues

Here in my little "box" of a room at Mohawk Residence, I can feel the sweat still on my brow. My hair is up in a "pony tail", and sweaty socks like in the bottom of my hamper. I've just gotten back from the gym. I'm sitting on my bed, with my laptop on my lap, and some American Idol is beltching out a song that I'm trying to sing along to (it's a good thing my roommate is gone to work).

I've just gotten back from the gym. I just worked out. I excercised in my spare time, for no apparent reason other than enjoyment and to cure restlessness. I'm nuts!

Out of pure angst towards a break-up with a boy, I strided into the gym to "walk it off". And that I did...a month ago. Then I did it again. And then again, and then before I knew it, it was reading week, and I was accompanying my mother on her nightly one hour walks around my little town of Walkerton. I haven't missed a day of a one hour walk, in about a month. Even when the flakes of snow were pounding against my face, the weather was anything less than warm, or it was so dark I needed to wear my glasses, I just dealt with the weather and time, and I love my Guess glasses, so I just dealt with it.

Long story short; I'm more toned, I have more colour, I sleep better, I'm not as winded when I climb stairs, I'm eating better (which can only make me think that I'm digesting better), I have a new stress buster, I can notice a slight difference in the way that I fill my jeans, and, well, I'm tired. I also need a shower....but that's beside the point.

But yet, I keep going. I don't plan on stopping. I plan on travelling miles more on a machine that makes it so I travel nowhere. I don't plan on retiring my grey sweat pants any time soon (although I do plan on washing them), and my cheap running shoes aren't set aside to gather dust (actually they're outside beside my big boots stinking up the kitchen, like I said, it's a good thing my roommate is at work or she'd be gassed).  

So, the escapade continues....