It’s in my blood to be a walker. I come from a family of walkers, no runners. So it only felt natural to get into walking as well.

I think when my Dad started walking, neighbours probably thought he was loco. Big strong macho farmers didn’t exercise, that was unheard of.

But, being that he is terrified of hospitals, medical procedures and really, doctors in general, when he was told quit smoking and get walking or else (surgery), he did it. He threw the cigarettes out the window and started chewing on those little carrots AND he started walking four miles each morning and four miles each evening. Religiously.

Thirty years, a heart attack and a broken hip later, he still walks everyday. I have several other family members who walk daily as well.

I got into walking a couple of years before my marriage ended, with my best friend at the time. It was my therapy each evening.

I still walk almost every evening with a friend and former coworker who lives just down the street.

On Saturday mornings I walk with Sue, which, if you follow my blog, is an older lady, a retired nurse who I used to work with. She was never married, never even had a boyfriend or significant other and raised one son on her own. He chose the road of being estranged from Sue more than ten years ago and not for a life of crime or drugs, but for his partner, because of her religion/culture.

I enjoy Sue’s company. This older crowd of people, our senior citizens, they are a real treasure. They think different (sometimes in a not so good way lol), but for the most part they mean well. And it’s sad to think that in another 20ish years, this generation will cease to exist.

Going to call her shortly for our Saturday walk with our dogs. Better get on that because she’s up with the birds.