Five miles. Yeah right.

OK - it's official. I have injured my knee. I know!! I was just as bummed about it as you! The fact is I might have been pushing it a bit too hard. I have been walking X miles per day, five days per week, and running up and down the stairs at work all day. The "X" is there because the three of us who walk various routes around my home cannot seem to agree on the exact distance. My wife likes to understate things - a reasonable way to live since it is always better if people find you have more or did better than you claim as opposed to the opposite - whereas I am the type who likes to round up. If I walk 4.9 miles, I will simply say, "I walked five miles today."

I am going to try to start taking her approach because I have given it some real thought over the past month or so, and it really seems to be more Christ-honoring to do it the way she does. So - I have NOT been walking five miles per day, I have been walking 4.9 miles, and there is one corner I sometimes cut which can drop it to as little as 4.85 miles. Oh the scandal of it all! I can see the headline:

"Ventura man confesses to overstating his mileage by a factor of .1 every day for the past three weeks. Federal inquiry to be launched by the Justice Department soon. Film at 11."

Oh- and in keeping with this new desire to understate, I must quickly add that the x-ray I have posted today is not my knee. It is some random knee, from some random person who has some random keen problem. It seemed like a nice eye-catcher so I posted it. OK? In fact, my knee is only sore, and I have great hope that taking Saturday and Sunday off from walking (and running the stairs at work) will allow me to get back out there on Monday morning. I normally don't walk on Saturday and Sunday (my Physical Therapist told me five days a week was sufficient for a man of my advancing years, coupled with my, uh, "widened horizons..."), so really, this sore knee is a bother, but hopefully will not be a setback in the battle of the flab.

So if you are at all interested in the inane ramblings of a soon-to-be-skinny guy with a temprary limp, I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, I am going to milk this for all it's worth. I'm going to go into work late, see if Tom will come over and mow my lawn, and have my wife bring me the remote. I'll let you know how that goes, as well.

Limp on!