It's been a while since I last posted, but that doesn't mean I haven't continued my journey. But, it doesn't mean I ate up the miles like Gandalf racing to Minas Tirith, either. No, I meandered at about the same pace an Ent conducts a conversation with the neighboring Huorn, managing around 10 miles.
Back in November my husband grew tired of stumping his toe on my unused treadmill and gave it away. The weather, while mild for January, has still been chilly and wet, so I have had to find more creative ways to walk. After an online battle with an incompetent eBay seller (my feedback was fierce, I tell you!) I managed to purchase Leslie Sansone's DVD The Walk Diet. I had heard great things about Sansone's workouts, so I was pretty confident this DVD would give me what I needed. Wrong! My first clue should have been the mocking look on the token hard bodied chick's face as she smirked her way through Sansone's wimpy workout. This DVD is all I had, though, so I stuck through it. Is it worth risking another $5 on one of Sansone's more challenging work outs?
To add some spice to this otherwise lackluster workout I followed The Walk Diet with the Pick Your Level Weight Loss Pilates DVD. I've never done Pilates before, so this workout was perfect for me. I simply followed chick #1 through most of the simpler movements, though I did manage to match chick #2 in a few of the yoga-inspired poses. I definitely recommend Pick Your Level Weight Loss Pilates. (I can see my brother chuckling now at the thought that I am plugging *any* fitness product, but hey! I am not claiming to be an expert. I am just sharing experiences that work for me, an admittedly un-physically fit fat chick.)
Any way, after 10 miles of Sansone's The Walk Diet, I find myself on the outskirts of Hobbiton, traveling east along the Stock Road. Before long I come upon a stand of fir trees whose roots would make a cozy nest for a sleepy hobbit. Stooping to rest a moment on a gnarled tree root, I notice small paw prints. Dog? I wonder. No, fox! I remember the cynical fox that came upon Frodo and friends one night as they camped under these same trees. Spying their sleeping forms among the tree roots, his thoughts were this
"Well, what next? I have heard of strange doings in this land, but I have seldom heard of a hobbit sleeping out of doors under a tree. Three of them! There's something mighty queer behind this."
The fox was right, of course, that something strange was going on, but I can't help but resent his reaction to the scene. (Or maybe I'm stretching to fit an analogy from this passage into my post.) Why shouldn't a group of friends, of a people known for their love of long walking tours, decide to camp out at night? Maybe Frodo decided to avoid the middle aged hobbit paunch by getting in a little more exercise. Who was Mr. Fox to criticize?
Do you have cynical foxes in your life? People who say things like, "Exactly how many miles have you put on that treadmill since I bought it for you in 2008?" (Don't tell my husband I think he's a fox.) If you are a fox, don't let anyone sense your negativity. Go ahead and think it all you want, just keep your trap shut.
Well, that's all for now. Next on Walking to Rivendell, I confront a Black Rider!
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