Skipping because I can.

I used to run. A lot. Now, not so much. As much as I would like it to be a daily habit, I don't even walk every day. Sure, I walk to the coffee pot and back but I'm not sure that counts as exercise. (Maybe I should put it at the top of the stairs.)

Sometimes, I skip.

I don't mean, I skip the exercise altogether. (I often skip the exercise but that's not what I mean here.) I skip, as in "... to My Lou."

Hubby and I will be out walking and I'll just start skipping. He doesn't seem to mind my bizarre behavior. (He's grown accustomed to it, at this point.) Skipping requires a little more physical effort than walking but not as much as running. I figure it uses more muscles, too.

I'm just waiting for it to become "a thing." I especially like to skip in places where people are overly concerned with physical fitness - places with heavily populated walking paths, where people who are already physically fit parade their beautiful, well-tanned bodies in fashionable spandex gear, sporting Fitbits, and iPhones tucked into jog bras. (Don't ask me how the phones don't fall out because I have no idea.) I'm just waiting for someone to think I'm on to the next new fitness fad.

What I need to design, here, is skipping gear. Clothing with slogans like Skip For Joy!, a skipping app, special skipping shoes. Then, it will be a thing all right.

In the meantime, I'll just skip because I can. And, because I'm dying to see if it catches on.