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It’s not the years, baby, it’s the mileage

Today was the first proper sunny day in months, and we met with our friend Fabrizio for a chat and some social interaction of the kind that’s not done in online meetings. So we took a jaunt to Costigliole, where Fabrizio has his house and his writing shack. And because he’s a much more active and fit person than I’ll ever be, he took us on a long walk among the hills.

And boy am I out of shape.
The exercise completely floored me, making it clear that I better start doing something about my (lack of) activity, or I’ll end up like one of those old men that roll on the floor instead of walking.

On the other hand, the fatigue brought inspiration – and I am about to pitch a new Story to a publisher that might (only might) be interested in a story of mine.
An active life also improves mental agility.
But what the heck, wasn’t it a meatgrinder of a walk…



This post first appeared on Karavansara | East Of Constantinople, West Of Shan, please read the originial post: here

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It’s not the years, baby, it’s the mileage

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