Morning Exercise & The Milkshake

My sis and I drove 12 hours to Carthage, Texas, and back this past weekend to teach at a Ladies Retreat. No problems. I got back, slept soundly, and got in my car Monday morning. It wouldn’t start. My daughter jumped the battery and it worked. This morning, Tuesday, the engine moaned like a sick puppy and refused to start again. I just sat there. I’m so thankful for all the prayers to help us get back to Oklahoma safely, otherwise we might have been stranded in Mt Pleasant, but next time, please don’t stop praying all at once.

Anyway, as I sat in my dead vehicle, it seemed like a good time to begin my exercise program. I had tennis shoes on and needed a prescription from the pharmacy, 10 blocks away. Ah ha. Exercise – per Doc Davis’ recommendation – so I might as well get going. Now, although I’m not exactly a couch potato – internet junkie, maybe – let’s just say, I’m not in the best of shape. An occasional walk in the neighborhood with my hubbie is about all I get. Which, come to think of it, may be why I’m in the shape I’m in.

Seemed easy at first, a little windy, but otherwise a beautiful day. My motivation faded until I saw a Braum’s sign a block ahead. I passed up the biscuits and sausage and tater tots. But what better way to get calcium than a vanilla milkshake? I took a five-minute break and started out again. However, walking is more difficult when savoring the creamy sweetness of ice cream, and my pace slowed. Praying for my friends, of course.

The pharmacy is right in the middle of Kickingbird Square, and I noticed all the shops, like Best of Books and Kickingbird Flowers and Gifts, and it dawned on me that shopping includes walking.  Hm… I persevered and made it to the pharmacy. To rest my feet again, I tested my blood pressure and heart rate. 103 over 64. Low. And 93 heart beats per minute. Barely above normal. Shouldn’t have focused so much on the shake. I mean, the praying.

I stopped at the Braum’s restroom on the way back, took a detour through Serendipity’s Market Place, and puffed up the hill on Danforth Street. You may have never have seen the hill, but believe me, it transformed on my way back home.

Now, my mother-in-law would be ashamed of my exercise, since even in her seventies, she walks miles a day, but I’m quite proud. Especially, when someone stopped and offered me a ride three blocks from my home and I refused, even if I regretted it a block later.

Next time, I think I’ll schedule my walk around noon so I can make a quick stop at Pizza Hut. Unless hubbie gets the car fixed. Then I can just drive there.