So I've been in terrific need of exercise. It was a nice day here, so I went outside with the children, to go sledding. We have a couple decent hills here in the yard, and with the recent thaw/refreeze, it's quite a fast track! I bundled Nea up til she looked like a little pink snowball and headed outside. It always amazes me how long I can be indoors without even realizing I haven't so much as stepped on the porch. Sometimes several days go by and I've not made it outside, much less "outside."
On my first run down the hill, my mind flooded with all the memories of flying down Lion's Hill as a child. The wind in my face. . . snow spraying. . . my hair in my mouth. . . it was a great moment, traveling memory lane. . . or hill, as it were. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then the sled came to a stop. That meant I had to get out. Hm. A dilemma, to be sure. I got my feet out without a problem, and though I frequently sit on the floor and have no trouble getting up, I realized that getting out of a sled, bundled up, with one foot sinking in the snow and the other not, is an art form. I am not Monet. As a kid, I just rolled out of the sled and jumped to my feet. I have more ballast now. And farther up to stand. . . I finally got my carcass out of the sled and hit another childhood memory. . . the long, long, long, long, long, long, trek up the hill. I realize we don't live on Mt. Vesuvius or anything, but man! The way I got up that hill was laughable. Thank God and greyhound none of my children had cameras.
All in all, I made several runs, then walked to the mailbox and back. I had a wonderful time and laughed with my darling children. In a few days, I'll write a post whining about my sore muscles.
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