Exercise sucks. Four years at a jock school did not change my opinion. Under protest, I bike, I swim, I stretch. I have yet to come in contact with an endorphin. I know I must persevere if I do not wish to be stove up.
Exercise is easier under the influence of an external agency, hence the popularity of personal trainers. In the past, I motivated myself to walk around the pasture with the excuse that Mathilda needed exercise [My Two Horses]. Since spring, she hasn’t been walking, so neither have I.
Another activity that fell off the schedule was barn time for the dog [Barn Dogs]. The only time our uber-beta dog doesn’t mind me is when there are horses to chase. Therefore, she is not allowed near the barn if Mathilda is out or being walked. The dog annoys the horses so much that Mathilda will try to kick or lunge even on a rope. So the dog has been in the custom-fenced dog pen that is our front yard. Despite the space, her summer hasn’t been any more fun than the rest of ours.
Combining the above, I have recently started taking the dog for walks around the pasture after the horses are done and Mathilda is put up for the might. She runs. I get weight-bearing exercise. My slothful side gets distracted.
If you will excuse me, I have to go walk the dog.
Gratuitous Kitten Pic
The first of the junior cats gets big enough to invade a senior cat spot. Arthur will not be pleased.