It's sad, really

When walking for thirty minutes on a flat treadmill at a pace to make just over a mile in the thirty minutes leaves me this tired. At seventeen minutes, I wasn't sure I'd make it. Back was hurting, sweat rolling - as I said, sad, really. But that's another day gone with thirty minutes done.

I'd actually decided not to walk today (well, yesterday, now, but if I haven't gone to bed, it isn't tomorrow yet.) I forgot about walking all day, then at 11:30 PM, remembered I hadn't done so. I decided not to, to just skip it. I was ready for bed and my book, didn't want to get sweaty and tired just heading that way. So I went on to bed . . . but then, knew I wouldn't be able to type on here that I'd walked for Saturday. So now I have walked. And now I have typed. One more day down.

One thing I didn't do today was the essay I needed to work on. It's due midnight Sunday, and I had planned to finish it today. Still nice to know some things never change - I procrastinated when I was taking college classes twenty-five years ago, and I'm still doing so today. So I'm lots older, out of shape, hair turned to grey, had to switch to bifocals . . . but I'm as good at procrastination as ever.