June 23 - Lisa's Musings (about exercise) and Every Day Life

It's been said that things like exercise are best done with a buddy.

You know, an exercise buddy. Someone who will make you feel guilty if you don't get your rump up and moving because you're letting down a friend. Well, I've resisted this part of the diet chain for just about long enough.

A few weeks ago, well actually, when I went to that huge dog show in Illinois, I decided that by the time the U.S. National show for Tollers rolled around, I'd be in much better shape.

I think it was because it was really, really hot at that show and I felt, well, really, really bad. Fat. Uncomfortable. Miserable. But what was even worse. Ryan, dear, dear Ryan, was in even worse shape. Especially when compared to all the other lean, mean, hunting machine, really active Tollers.

Ryan and I have a lot in common. Neither of us are the go-hike-a-mountain, forge-a-wide-stream, climb-a-rock-wall type. We prefer our adventures to include a stroll, a gentle swim, and a lot of standing still gazing.

Meanwhile, Driver is the typical Toller. He leaps and runs just for fun. He never saunters toward anything. It's a full-tilt, life's-meant-to-be-lived-in-the-fast lane kind of existence.

And, quite frankly, neither Ryan nor I understand it.

Sure, we appreciate it, but we just don't get why anything should be done at such break-neck speed. Ya miss the little stuff that way when you're whirling toward everything so quickly.

Doesn't everyone say we should take the time to smell the roses? Driver doesn't see the roses, he's racing by them so fast. I'm sure they look like a petaled blur.

However, there's something to be said about this because Driver is in great shape, while Ryan and I have some serious work to do.

So, I vowed that we'd both be in much better shape by the time the end of September rolled around when we head to The National.

And that's how Ryan and I became exercise buddies.

In addition to me actually using the professional gym I have in my home, he and I have been walking, really moving, around the property. No stopping to sniff every 15 steps. No digging at mole hills. No lifting his leg on every tall thing he sees. Nope, we've been exercising.

And he's been on a very strict diet. I do not want to be embarrassed to take him out of the crate where people can see him when I'm at The National. Besides, his breeder will be there and she'd kill me if she saw how fat he'd become.

So far, I see an improvement in both of us.

There's a reason why dogs are man's (and woman's) best friend.