Walk

I've mostly been talking the talk but not walking the talk as far as my physical health is concerned.

Well, because I'm more at home in the world of words. It's words words words from my rising to my lying down. From praying to reading, writing, thinking, typing, researching, blogging, storytelling, teaching, singing, etc. Not to mention chika-ing, telephoning, complaining (oops!). That's a lot already, don't you think?

I've talked and planned a lot about going into some physical fitness program but never got to doing it.

I begged Opal, our daughter-in-law, to go find a buyer for my hardly-used exercise machine and she did, hallelujia- to my hubby's raised eyebrows. So you see, my big talk about exercising never resulted into anything.

"Busy!" has been my convenient excuse for not engaging in my almost lost battle with the bulge. Uh, I'm not really doing that bad because I've followed someone's suggestion to fidget often, and that would do the trick. So fidgeting is what I do a lot of.

After dinner, I choose not to sit while watching TV, rushing to the toilet to brush my teeth or perform my skin-care rituals (this I cannot do without!) when commercials intruded. Couple that with some morning stretches and I feel I'm good to go.

But back in Sydney now with my daughter, and having made washing dishes and floor sweeping as my convenient excuse- er, exercise substitute, Lucci finally growled, "You have to exercise Mother!"

And so I did. I'm really quite teachable, you know. I did promise (words again, see!) to do it regularly, even boasting to Lojack (that's how our grandson Joaqui calls his grandfather) that when he finally comes to Sydney next month, I will be his jog-mate.

Jack's excited no end. I don't know if it's about the prospect that he would be on vacation and could therefore walk more often, or because he learned that I'm finally walking. (Didn't I tell you yet that he once did a 42-K marathon? No kidding!)

So these photos are a testament that I've finally walked my talk. If Charlize can do it, so could I. Charlize, our granddaughter, by the way, turned four last month. Oh, and she too has a way with words. But that's another story.