I’m not a nature person. Not a “fitness” person, either. But I spent all day Saturday and early Sunday battling body aches. The kind of body aches born of inactivity. I didn’t want to workout for a few minutes and crawl back into bed (a downside to living with my mother: if I’m home, I’m in my bedroom, which means I’m almost always in bed). I needed to be up and about for a couple hours. I needed to walk.
The only nearby site conducive to my need to move around and not spend money was the walking trails at the Metropark. I threw on workout gear, grabbed my phone and earbuds, and headed to the great outdoors.
To prevent getting lost, I picked a single trail and didn’t deviate. Occasionally, I’d pass a male jogger and think “This dude could murder me in these woods. No one would know.” Thankfully, I went un-murdered.
I don’t know how long or far I walked; just kept going until I needed to use the restroom; which was basically an outhouse with a toilet-like contraption over a hole in the ground.
By the time I was finished the walk, my body felt looser and I’d worked up a nice little sweat. Dare I say, I enjoyed it.*
Of course, I snapped some photos along the way.
[*] Except for the outhouse and the “which one of these male joggers will bury my body in these woods” ponderings.