I People with high density have never understood. Wine – yes. Movies – clear. Form trains – whatever your boat floats. But practice? I did not get it. He cried on Pilates Pilates and Left Circles in the middle of the road under the guilt of the toilet. I went to the garden with the intention of running and placed instead in the grass with Corno. I defended the disease – once, the death of a fictional pet – to relinquish the cancellation fees. Only the exercise was not for me.
It is not as if I did not try. I tried to swim and bar, and to make power and boxing – all of this is infernal, not to mention the lack of expensive. When I was walking through a specific gym with a glass front near my apartment, always with a kind of snack in my hands, I felt a transition from compassion on people inside-the ethnicity of the difference, unable to free themselves from the tyranny of the mill.
Unfortunately, it was always this way. I am facing a sporty challenge in a fungi – psychologically weak and unwillingness to suffer for things I do not want to do. I told myself for years that I was not the type that participated in the world of physical activity. Then I started walking everywhere.
Initially, it was far from the necessity – I just moved to London, broke, alone, and I could not understand the concept of getting the bus in the right direction. At home in Omag, Northern Ireland, for walking was driving to a destination and then spending 40 minutes to rotate in the Muccy forest or do inspired rolls from a lake. In London, I was surprised by the ground that can only be covered by walking for an hour or two from the front door: Highgate, Hampstead Heath, and if you have imagined spectral silence on the weekend, Moorgate, with the emptying of bankers, was all reasonable. Until now, I have finished feeling freedom and wondering that I am tested walking from one end of the city to another.
I discover that I could move my body in a way that you did not feel like a kind of hard punishment from God was revelation. Sad for all the years I spent sitting.
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These days, walking, for me, is equivalent to hiding vegetables in mashed potatoes: suddenly covered four miles in one extension without really noticing. In the evening, walking for 90 minutes to the house of work is similar to making peace with today, no matter how good, bad or noticeable. On weekends, I deal with walking time when plans, and enjoy every tendency knowing that I have an excited person to see him waiting for me at the other end.
A few weeks ago, I joined the yoga row again after many years I thought the end (when you lie on the ground like the star) was the only part of the trouble. For my amazement, I was not obliged to take a rest or scream at the coach who did not consider the dumping dog as a rest. In fact, I enjoyed it, and I promised next week. But walking there and returning home was still the best part.