For the most part, I like exercise. It clears my brain and the endorphins are nice — the physical benefits are secondary. I zip along outside with my dog every other day — my husband does the dog walking on the in-between days — and on my alternate days I either ride my bike or get on the treadmill, depending on the weather. When I’m outside, I move at a good clip — though admittedly I dawdle sometimes and watch deer crossing the road or search the treetops to see if my raven pair is up there. Once in a while my accordion-playing neighbor hollers from his yard and I stop briefly and visit with him. I savor those times because a treadmill doesn’t give me those options. Man, once I hit the “start” button, that blasted thing is relentless in maintaining its speed. A treadmill has no soul.