Feet are my friends
Yesterday was our staff holiday potluck. Knowing that there was going to be lots of food there, and that I would probably eat a bit more than I should (not good, but I'm being honest with myself) I decided to walk to the party. My logic also included the fact that though I'd done 40 minutes of yoga in the morning and walked to work, the party was going to eat into the time when I normally go for my evening walk. SO... I walked the 1.5 miles to the party. It took me just under half an hour, but that includes the time to put on my coat and locate a clock and that's IF the clocks I compared were the same. Anyway. The party happened, and I didn't eat too much (yay me) and then, while everyone was packing to go home, I figured I would just forgo the many offers of a lift and walk home. It was lovely. I sang a song to my feet, talked to myself in an irish accent, and then in french. The walk home was a bit farther than the walk there (as going there I was coming from the theater, not my house) so all in all, I did excellently yesterday.
As a reward... the scale this morning read 223lbs. Woot!
I'm wearing a 2x shirt (hunter creek bluegrass) and not feeling odd inside of it.
Also... my feet do not hurt one bit. I love my feet.