I went for a walk this evening, not because I wanted to but because I needed to. Since I came down with Flu last Saturday (8 days ago) I haven't been in the mood to do any exercise whatsoever. A couple of trips to the shops involved me getting in the car and driving the 1 mile there and back. Normally I would walk.
I have done little bits of exercise since my illness. At the weekend I swept the wet leaves off the patch of grass I would call a "lawn" if I was feeling grandiose. Today I swept the wet leaves off the driveway before they stained the concrete.
Today I'm as good as recovered, or at least 98% there. I still have a general feeling of malaise and my stomach is not 100% but I can eat anything I like and not feel sick.
Nevertheless, whether I felt like it or not I put on my jacket, scarf, hat and gloves and ventured out into the cold dark air for a walk to WalMart on a mission to buy yeast, which I obtained and walked home again. I think I felt better for it, hard to know for sure. No harm was done that is for certain and my body probably appreciated the movement.
Like the walk this evening that I didn't really want to take, I wasn't in the mood to write my words, but here I am typing away with one of those "I didn't really want to write so I'm going to write about not wanting to write" type posts until I have gone and fulfilled another task that I didn't want to do, yet knew that one way or another I was going to have to force it and write them anyway.