Oh, that old Weight Watchers mantra: If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.
Bah. Sometimes when you fail to plan you have wonderful spontaneous adventures! It's all how you look at it.
Except I did plan this week! Hell, I've been planning all year!
When I sit down to write my goals for the week (which are supposed to align with my goals for the month, which are supposed to align with my goals for the year, which are supposed to align with my goals for the decade, which are... oh, never mind), I always write "Walk four times". At first I got specific and marked down which days I would walk, but that way lay madness and angst.
Most of the time, I take Monday off, then spread the walks over the next six days. I started to do the same thing this week. Then I realized that we're going to the beach for the weekend! Well, I could walk at the beach of course, but why? So that left Tuesday through Friday.
Ugh. Four days in a row.
So I did. Two inside on the treadmill, because it's been 40,000,000 degrees outside. Two outside, one Wednesday evening when it was wasn't quite 40,000,000 degrees and low(er) humidity and the last one just now, this morning, when it was actually 72 degrees. The forecast this weekend calls for 80,000,000 degrees with high humidity, so I'm glad it's "won" and done. (Heh. See what I did there? Obscure sports reference? Okay.)
And now I can sit on the porch all weekend with a nice cold glass of wine.
Time to pack.