Monday, October 12, 2009

A 7-week old Bichon.Image via Wikipedia

Every day I have to psych myself up to exercise. I have a set routine of a 2.5 mile walk carrying 10 lbs. of weights, and each time I hear a little voice in my head saying "It's too hot...it's way too humid...you're too tired...the weights hurt...you'll do it tomorrow..." and when I leave the house it's with the mental carrot dangling in front of me that if I get tired, I'll do a shorter walk and come home.

So I'm always a little surprised when I find my footsteps turning back in at my driveway at the end of the walk. I think it helps that I let my mind wander so freely while I'm walking. For example, today I realized that when the villain kidnaps Daphne, the heroine of my WIP, she's going to have to leave her little bichon Pompom behind, and that will be a massive piece of cluecake for the hero. He might fear Daphne would leave him, but he knows she'd never leave Pompom!

I was still thinking about how I was going to write the scene when I saw my mailbox. I'd walked the full route thinking about dialogue, and the kidnapping, and how Pompom helps save the day , and not thinking about how tired I was. My writing routine is bad for my butt with all that sitting, but good for my exercise program because I can distract myself with plotting.

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