Dedication

A man who lives a few houses up from me walks for over two hours every evening. The only reason I know this is because my living room picture window faces the street, and there are some nights when I happen to see him on his way out of the neighborhood, and then again on his way back. Sometimes when he's on his way out, I'm doing my Jillian workout, which makes me feel like, "Hey, kindred exercisers!", and sometimes when he's on his way back I'm watching crap TV and drinking beer, which makes me feel like crud. And actually, now that I think about it, Jillian has pretty much been put on the back burner lately, what with mowing and gardening and kitten-ing and all, so ... yeah. I fail at Jillian.

I'm not sure if he does a set route or if he mixes it up. I know that at least some of the time he walks West Hill, because sometimes I see him there if I happen to be out walking.

I just ... I can't really imagine doing two hours of walking every. single. night. There are lots of weekends when I do lots and lots of walking, but there are lots of days when I don't walk at all.

And, well, it's not like he needs the exercise. He's a slim guy. But you know what? For all I know, he started out at, like, four hundred pounds and lost the weight by walking.

Walk on, walking dude. You put me to shame.