How often do you walk or run?
We are just leaving York where we have been visiting a second-hand book fair, but I thought about this prompt in the hotel room; the rain at the time was beating down outside and I thought responding to both stimuli: “It would be silly to go for a walk in this’. I must check how you can be sure you aren’t thinking aloud, though. That’s because Daisy, our dog, was before I thought this sentence, lying quietly by the side of me, hugging the white dressing gown I was wearing, and apparently asleep. Meanwhile, I concentrated on a lovely old book of the now forgotten queer artist, friend of Hockney, Patrick Proctor (fondly gurgling over his beautiful picture of the Gondoliere Bruno). Thus, though, Daisy snuggled:
But within microseconds of the thought being thought, all changed, and suddenly a wet nose was turned up towards me and a hullaboo of cries and yelps began to express themselves.
It was clear I must have thought aloud, and the sound of the word WALK was enough. And she, now being alert, so must I be. And there was my answer to this prompt.
Reliant on routine alone, a walk outside might not have happened, even though I knew I needed the exercise to clear the fog of blank depression in process of announcing itself and, because, frankly, physically I need to lose weight. But fear of the effect on my diabetes and ambient post traumatic mood, which ought to be enough on their own, are not. Daisy’s living needs are. Of course dogs are experts at covered love, but they tend to be more loyal with that than people and not to bullshit you with protestations in pretence of loyalty nor excuses in lieu of shame.
One time the love of a beautiful younger man drove me to routine. Three long walks a day, daily exercises at the gym, walking there and back down into the village, and when I could fit it in, a session on my static exercise bike. It worked but … complacency sets in I think and loss, consequent on that perhaps for this guy was very vain about personal appearance, did the rest. When I note that I am now ballooning, this isn’t a reference to a new sport but a tendency to comfort eat.
But maybe, that will go. But even if it takes time, and it will, I don’t think Daisy will let me down. Hence I hope when the schedule returns, and the self-efficacy it becomes for keeping to a routine, I will get there not by being obsessed with failures but with the hope that puppy love look brings to return a spring to my step.
Once outside, Daisy chooses to roll in the grass and kick her legs in the air. It will take much longer before I do this I think, and since I will be 69 on the 24th of this month, it might not happen . But, to see her frees me. There is a sheer love of life that you can’t beat.
So the answer to the question is ‘it varies but it never stops’ and one long morning walk a day is invariant, for so is the external motivation. It’s attachment and love that fires the motivation not cognition based on uncertain futures and human vanity. You can’t beat that.
All my love
Steve
Steve_Bamlett_blog 