Every day regardless of weather, I walk around the block. It may not sound like much but I live in the sticks and my block is six miles around, so my neighbors think I am more than a little nuts.
It never fails. I will be out walking and a dust comet will streak up on me. The driver will slow to a stop, roll down the window, lean out and ask, “Do you want a ride?”
It’s endearing how people are always willing to lend a hand but I politely decline. I tell them I am merely out for exercise.
Most find that troubling.
You see, in the country, the word for exercise is work and everyone gets more of that than they can handle. For them, exercise is either what you do for money or what you do because you have to. If you are not paid or compelled to exert yourself, you should be doing something useful instead.
On my walks, I often watch someone drive out of their garage, back down the driveway to the mail box, remove their mail and drive back into the garage.
City people might call this lazy but a country person would never call it that – unless of course, the person was actually paid or compelled to walk to the mailbox, in which case if they drove instead – that would be lazy.
For most people out here, walking in the middle of the day means you have nothing to do. If you are healthy enough to walk, you are healthy enough to work and if you have a job that allows you to walk during the day, maybe you need a real job.
When I tell people I walk for exercise, they interpret it as an excuse. They know I am not lazy because of the distance I cover, so they think – the poor guy got nothing to do and they take pity. Always willing to help, they will mention a neighbor who needs a hand pressure washing hog barns.
Knowing this, when I explain why I walk, I always append the qualifier, “Doctor’s orders.”
It works because people on my road know doctors will order strange things. The same doctor who says you can’t lift a bag of seeds – will order you to walk six miles. It is the sort of thing that only make sense to a doctor.
Mine said that since I am retired and don’t have anything useful to do, I should get off my ass and get some exercise.
So when I tell people that I walk on doctor’s order, you can see two thoughts chase each other across their faces: maybe I should find another doctor, followed by the realization that since I am compelled to do what I am doing – that is work, which means everything is right again with the world.
Almost Iowa 
We’re in the country too, but a neighbor decided to build an exercise room complete with swimming pool, other stuff and zumba classes. So, my neighbor hurries up with all her chores: cooking and feeding her dogs, cat and chickens (yes she sometimes cooks for her chickens), cleaning the chicken coup, harvesting, cooking again, canning, and then she drives about 1/2 mile to go to zumba class.
She drives 1/2 mile, Could she zumba the distance? (snarf)
Probably and she’d more than ten years older than I am.
Just stopped by to wish you and the wife a very happy Thanksgiving.
Thanks Don and happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. If you’re traveling, drive safe.
I feel compelled to warn you. Just two words. Stephen King. He took walks. Look what happened to him. He was walking down the highway one day and was hit by a car.
I don’t have to worry about cars around here. Everyone drives trucks. 🙂
Then you could end up squashed like a love bug.
Doctors are the nuttiest of the lot.
Doctors, cops and ministers are all nutty. It comes from knowing too many secrets
Oh, how I relate to this! Living in the country as we do, I can’t tell you how many times husband and I have remarked “who needs a gym?” with as much work as there is just to keep the place half-way decent looking. Nonetheless, we often go for walks along our country roads and experience the exact same reactions from the “natives!” We must be nuts.
They think we are nuts – yet they still offer us a ride. It says something wonderful about country people.
As ever a fascinating insight into another culture – and one not far removed from what goes on this side of the pond. And then they all wonder why they are fat! I’ve knackered quad muscles in one leg (serving legal papers on an annoying twat some years ago) hence I cannot run yet still knock out 12k on a cross trainer each and every day – when people hear of this they think I’m a nutter so I know here you’re coming from.
12k on a cross trainer is not bad – I am thinking more and more around those lines, especially when the temperature heads south of 0F into the teeth of 20mph wind.