I'm a fat tub of lard. I haven't really gone for many morning walks, since my dog died, and I have become a pig over the winter and fall, too, for that matter. I was feeling pretty good this morning at about five thirty, when I went out for some excersize, and tried to trot a little. I used to jog a lot and I really need to start again. This morning was not the time - I barely made it six blocks at a light pace, before I began to face the reality that I'm a fifty year old tub of lard and I really should not be running, without some period of time to gradually build up some stamina, again.
It's not my cardio-vascular system that punked out, though. It was my joints. God DAMN it!