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Not Quite Ready for the Olympics
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I walk on my treadmill 30 minutes a day, 6 days a week. I admit to cheating occasionally, walking for only 25 minutes.

This morning I realized, at the end of 25 minutes, that I wasn't particularly challenged--not breathing hard, not sweating--in fact, it felt like a walk in the park. I was feeling good, and relaxed, not working it at all.

So, for the last five minutes, I cranked up the incline and walked uphill. Yeah, not quite ready for the Olympics. After 5 minutes, I was indeed ready for a minute or two of cooldown, and then my first cup of coffee of the day.

I'm getting in much better shape and feeling good. When I first started this regimen, I could barely do 10 minutes comfortably. Up to 30 without breaking a sweat. Yay!

My discipline is based on one simple rule: I cannot step foot out of my bedroom (except to use the bathroom and brush my teeth) until I've done my walk. No excuses, no postponement. The cat approves, as that means I'm keeping her company while she sleeps at the foot of the bed.

I've read recently that a cup of coffee (black) before you exercise is beneficial, but I know that if I took the time to brew a cup and drink it, I'd have thought of a dozen excuses for not walking, a million other things I should be doing instead; I'd have made promises to walk later in the day (easily broken and/or forgotten) and there would go my program.

No, this is what I'm doing and I'm sticking to it. I'm not naturally a rigid, rule-bound person, so I have to remind myself that the alternative is open heart surgery. Man, talk about motivation! I may have to have the surgery anyway, but I'll be in much better shape for it and full recovery will be more likely.

My astrologer would say I have Moon in Virgo to thank for the determination and discipline to do it, and do it right. Whatever the source, I'm on it for life.

For my very life is at stake.

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