Twelve days ago I decided that if I don't start really doing some walking or SOMETHING, in a short time, I won't be able to do ANYTHING. For the past nine out of twelve mornings I have gone for a one-mile walk first thing. Three of those days I have had my DH's company, which is a good motivator. It's a lot more fun walking with him than walking alone, and besides, we go an extra 1/4-1/2 mile farther when he is along. Okay, one mile is not going to help me lose any weight, and I feel like a total spaz out there trying to walk fast and tripping over my feet at the same time. But it is already making me feeling a bit more energetic during the rest of the day (like I knew it would -- why didn't I do this a long time ago??). I haven't lost a fraction of an inch or lost any weight, and I don't expect to until long after my cells come to the realization that I am not trying to kill them, but to do something good for them. They always panic when I start talking about losing weight, and they hold on for dear life. But after only a week and a half I do feel better, and that is a good benefit. After I get some coordination back, I will go farther. So now, all of you who encouraged me before I started (and that includes those of you who have been encouraging me for the past twenty years to start walking), you have my permission to say, "I told you so."