“I should be further along than I am now.”

That was a statement I’ve said recently, echoing statements I’ve made over the years.

There’s been a gap, ever widening, between where I want to be and where I am.  Or, perhaps more accurately, what I want to do and what I do.

My publishing resume reflects that (nothing since college), my finances reflect that and, now, finally, my blood work reflects that.

I’ve always held that being fat isn’t the problem; being poor isn’t the problem.  Each is A problem, but not THE problem.

They are symptoms of bigger problems. They carry their own consequences, sure, but they are primarily symptoms.

And it’s time that I put the symptoms in check.

Tonight, I walked.  Not far, and, of course, I lost my pedometer along the way. But I walked.  With an arthritic hand and a terribly behaved dog, I put one step in front of the other before the sun went down.

Which is a whole set of accomplishments right there. Getting home from work before dark (an increasing challenge with the time change and this time of year); getting out the door rather than looking at “one more thing” on the internet; remembering to bring the doggy bag for the presents the pup always leaves on our walks.

It’s a start. And I’m moving again.

That’s something.

Also: I don’t think I’ll ever refer to take-away food as a “doggy bag” again.