Just walkin' around

My mom walks miles every night. She could walk circles around most of us. I didn't inherit that desire to get up and walk, or one to run for that matter. I like to walk, but usually just to places.

But maybe that's changing now, as I'm getting more comfortable in the neighborhood, and more in tune to the, uh, aging I'm doing here. (I'm not old, but it just occured to me the other day that when I say "I ran some 5Ks the other year," I mean "I ran two 5Ks eight years ago," and I just can't deal with that. And I only ran them for the T-shirts.

Plus, it doesn't get dark at 4:30 p.m. anymore. And Dave's paranoid he's getting -- his word, not mine -- "fluffy."

Wait, wait, wait. Just so we're clear ... You won't find me on JogBlog talking about marathon training routines. I just went for a walk. I'm no poseur.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

But the three of us -- Dave, the dog and I -- went for a walk before dinner, and while I didn't feel any endorphins or whatever it is that you're supposed to feel, I did feel good enough about it to say to the blog world, "Oh, I walked today."

Fascinating, I know.

The more interesting part to me is seeing my neighborhood from the sidewalk instead of from the driver's seat. Besides walks through the park last year when we lived by Menominee Park, I don't think we ever got out in a neighborhood to walk. All new experience, or at least all-new since 1999, when I lived in a town where I may have walked with my mom on occasion, when I wasn't too cool to do so (Gosh! Someone might have SEEN me! In public!).

It felt kind of ... homey? Is that the word to describe today? I'm not sure, but I felt it.