I'm in shape...

round is a shape right?

Since the weather was great in East TN, I got the brilliant idea to go for a walk around the block...fresh air, a little exercise...good times!

Mr. Paisley was working on the hot tub surround so I laced up my shoes and hit the road...with my Captivate in hand....you know...just in case.

So I headed down the road, walked up the hill to Pam's cabin, then down to her neighbor's, up another small hill and past the 2nd to last house on our road...at which point there's a pretty steep downhill run. I noticed that it was a little rough walking down the hill and that my toes were jammed into the ends of my Ryka's with every step....but I was side tracked by the bunnies and the birds and OMG tiny little pine cones! Hello crazy crafter personality. So I wandered around at the bottom of the hill a little while gathering a pile of little pine cones on the side of the road. Honestly, I had no idea they were SHARP. What the... yeah, well, I wasn't going to try to carry back a bunch based on the prickle factor alone. So after I was done hunting and gathering, I glanced back and the hill that I had come down looked more like Mt. Everest from where I was standing. So I decided that it might not be a good idea to actually walk around the entire block on my first neighborhood walk outing. So about halfway up this hill I wanted to sit down in the middle of the road and wait for crazy Jerry the grounds keeper to come hauling ass down the road and just run me over and put me out of my misery. 

I don't run marathons. I don't even walk 5Ks these days, but I really don't have any difficulty walking. In Florida. Florida is F.L.A.T. Note to self - the hills you drive down and throw your arms up and scream "wheeeeee" like you're on a roller coaster...yeah, they might as well be mountains Florida Girl, you have a LONG way to go before you take a leisurely stroll "around the block" in the mountains. 

Seriously...what WAS I thinking?

Eventually I managed to get back up the hill...only to see the other 3 standing between my current location and my plaid sofa and remote. 

Lucky for me there are benches along the road (gee...I wonder WHY) and I plopped down on the first one I came to in order to catch my breath and update my Facebook status (good thing I had the smarts to take my phone). So once I was breathing normally and sure that anyone I encountered along the way would not think I was going into cardiac arrest I trucked down and back up the next hill...huffing and puffing. Lord have mercy...please let me crawl my way onto Pam's deck and sit a spell in one of her rockers and enjoy the views of Mt. LeConte while I gasped and wheezed and pondered what the hell I was thinking.

So after a few minutes I took a nice little stroll the rest of the way back to the cabin...where Mr. Paisley asked where I had been (not that he bothered to call me) and when I told him, he nearly died laughing. 

The lesson here is that when you grow up in Florida, you don't KNOW these things...

You don't THINK about the fact that when you go downhill...you're going to have to go back UPhill.

You don't THINK about ICE being on the ground in the winter.

You don't THINK that you better drain the water heater and turn off the water to the house because the pipes might freeze.

You don't THINK to plug in the block heater on the diesel truck because it's going to be below 60 degrees tonight. 

You don't THINK that your lightweight cotton jeans are no match for 13 below standing outside at Newfound Gap (you also don't OWN long underwear of any type).

You can't even fathom the idea of a "winter vehicle"...what? Why would I park the convertible just because it's November? I just don't put the top down for the next couple of months. I don't understand...

Don't even get me started on the fact that no one ever told you that a leather coat, is NOT a winter coat. It may keep a cow warm, but it will not keep you warm. At all. Period.

Growing up in Florida is kinda like living under a rock. A warm, hot, sunny rock. 

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my Yankee parents (who will read this within a few days) for not educating their Southern born children when it comes to things that 9/10ths of the country grow up knowing as facts of life. Oh and my Upstate New York born HUSBAND who also SHOULD know some of this, but evidently lost that knowledge after living in Florida for so many years.

Maybe i'll find an ice scraper in my stocking this year...or better yet, a treadmill that only has an uphill mode sitting beside the tree.

I obviously need some uphill training.