I am taking a writing class. I loathe formal education. I love to learn, but I only love learning what I want to learn at that specific time.

A portion of my daily assignment is to exercise for 18 minutes. It doesn’t have to be intense, hardcore, vein-bursting exercise, but it needs to be enough to raise my heart rate. The idea is stimulation. Stimulation is healthy.

The importance of healthy is one of the few things that seem to be universally agreed upon. I am not talking about the various methods of attaining health, but being healthy, in general.

The owner of my gym suggests I exercise, naturally, but so does:

My mom.

My doctor.

My insurance agent.

My friends.

My employer.

My therapist.

My conscience.

My writing teacher.

There is nothing more agreed upon in this world than the importance of being healthy. However, I have a propensity to do some of the most unhealthy of things, seemingly in spite of the knowledge.

Knowledge is not enough. Good health requires action, not intellect.

I can’t think my way into better actions, but I can act my way into better thinking.

Move around a little bit.

Take a walk.

Be healthy.

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related,