Exercise is a Dirty Word

I have always hated exercise. My ass would have sweat dripping down the crack before you could say, "Ice cream sundae". Part of this hatred for exercise stems from high school when I was supposed to run a mile. Most girls could run it in 7 minutes or less. Then there was me. I was lucky to finish, crawling on my hands and knees within 13 minutes all while the masochistic male gym teacher bellowed, "Move your backside, (insert my maiden name here)".

Surprisingly, I've been pretty diligent with walking every night. I don't go too far, usually between 1 and 2 miles. I'm able to walk a mile in 10 minutes. I almost hate to admit that I am enjoying my little evening ritual. I wear a pedometer all day and easily get in 3-5 miles a day at work. Not bad for a fat chick!

Last night we went to my grandparents pond (see last year's post here). We had dinner and then everyone went fishing. I decided to go for a walk instead. I took my cell phone and took some pictures.

My grandpa is 82 and farmed his entire life. Last year, he decided to put all of his land into the land bank instead of farming it. He planted all of the land with grasses and wildflowers.

This is the view of the back of the barns looking across the fields.

I love the woods!

You can't see it in this picture, but the pond is on the left near the trees.

This is what most of the fields look like with millions of Black Eyed Susans.

This is #1 fishing in flip flops.

She caught the biggest bass out of everyone.

The road to get back to the pond is 1/2 mile long. I made signs that we placed along the way for entertainment purposes. Some of them were old Burma Shave slogans. Here are a few samples of the non Burma Shave ones.