Today

Back in January I vowed to get back in shape. To lose weight. To be better to myself. I have and I haven't. For instance, I fell off the WW train last week and stayed off, until Monday. I know better. And then I promised myself starting Monday I would floss EVERY SINGLE DAY. (If there are those of you out there who do this, major props to you. I floss frequently but there are nights when I am almost too exhausted to brush my teeth, much less anything else. And yes, I know better. And yes, I have huge dental charges on my stupid Visa. Whatever.) And then we ran out of floss. And I haven't been to the store yet. Plus, floss is super expensive! (And yes, I know, so are dentures!)

Anyway. I am trying again. Monday I began eating better. I walked in the bedroom while Ang watched TV (raining too hard to walk outside). I did some weight exercises. But I just felt like a loser. And not the Biggest Loser, I wish. (Ang and I went to the bookstore Friday night and read their new jump start book - it didn't tell me the secret. So I didn't buy it.) So today I decided to try again.

I had hopes of joining a gym. Not the expensive gyms I see on every corner. Not the family-friendly YMCA I keep thinking about. Just the Curves by Ang's school that I could walk to and do some weight training at with an instructor for thirty bucks a month. But then I didn't get paid (yeah, STILL haven't seen a penny from UoP) and more doctor/dentist bills came in and then the car insurance bill arrived in my inbox and I realized that I would not be joining a gym. In fact, after almost five years I'll probably have to give up my WW account too (not sure if this is a big loss as I now know the program backward and frontward and sideways but it was always a comfort to have the amenities/encouragement available).

So today I went outside. I got out of my bed (because the heat doesn't work well I was under three blankets working) and laced on the beautiful tennis shoes my mom bought me a year ago and plugged in my trusty iPod and was on my way. And even though I only walked for thirty minutes, it felt good.

I stretched. I ran to the stop sign. I walked slowly to catch my breath. I ran across the street. I smiled when a butterfly almost sideswiped me. I smiled at some kids hanging over the fence yelling at the puppy in the street. I walked really fast while I listed to the Unit's theme song (the original theme song, the only theme song if you ask Ang) over and over again. I tried not to stare at the film shoot in the park. I laughed as the little dog jumped onto the curve and looked like a dog from a cartoon, ears flying behind him, tongue hanging out of his mouth. I sidestepped several mud puddles. I stepped in a clear puddle to clean my shoes (because as June Carter Cash says in Walk the Line - which I just read this morning - "we choose which puddles to step in"). I ran up the hill and realized that was not a good idea. I walked down a street in my neighborhood I've never been on before. I held my face up to the sun and smiled. I ran even though my legs felt tight and my throat burned. I walked some more.

And it all felt good. Being outside. Listening to music, not multitasking for a change. Not thinking about work or writing or bills or money or anything but the song lyrics and whether or not I could run past the green bit of grass to the driveway (I did, and then walked for ten more minutes). It felt so good. And I am grateful for that reminder. That even though the cupboards might be getting bare, the checkbook might be getting lighter, the worries might be piling up, I can still enjoy the beauty of Southern California on a February day. I still have legs that allow me to walk, and occasionally run. I am alive. And all I'm going to do is what I can. Today.