Movement
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4BOz1U7_XuF4wZc1sy3dpHLqsDIElEYC9Y5mQs_JRKI-AeUq62NKTie0-dD-s-VoM_EONuouUdYQGgj8jyg6cwPxLVe0D_biahiKy6xsAb_FRRwss28OWxl7cVm-Lt8PpXUThl_lK2o/s400/20160402_130958.jpg)
I used to be fairly active...even with kids! I surfed nearly every other week, skated on days in between. We would walk a mile or two to various parks, sometimes twice a day. At the park I would climb poles and do dips on the handrails, chase Ellie around or whatever I could to do little " Dad workouts ." But then we moved, and now I am probably the weakest I've been since I learned to love surfing. I like to blame it all on my lack of surfing, but I know it's not true, and today was reaffirmation of that. My car was acting up, and in an effort to not get stranded, we walked the same distance to a park that I used to walk while in Redondo Beach (0.5 miles). I also climbed the jungle gym, hung (hanged?) upside down on monkey bars, and chased my kids around. It felt good, and I had to wonder why I quit doing those things. The answer is that the park we prefer to go to is a whopping 0.7 miles away, much too far to walk, right? And so we drive. While there, I do chas