As a child I took lessons of all kinds: swimming, dancing, cooking, gymnastics, tennis, horseback riding, and crafts. But the thing is I never pursued any of these activities long enough to become proficient at them. Instead, I got what you might call an introduction to swimming, dancing, cooking, etc.

As an adult, I followed the same practice. Over the years, I took yoga, racquetball, more tennis, crochet, ceramics, and weight training with an honest-to-goodness athletic trainer. Again, I was lucky to last a dozen weeks before giving up or becoming bored or claiming to be too busy.

My current exercise regime (cardio three times a weeks; weight training three times a week, swimming once a week) has held my interest for almost five months, a record for this sort of thing. It’s still touch and go — I’d rather be reading — but I’m pleased with the results; and that’s what keeps me going. The fact is I don’t like exercising; I like having exercised. I don’t like dieting either. But I like having lost almost ten pounds and several inches around my outer perimeter.

And it’s occurred to me that all those introductory lessons I took are standing in me good stead now. For example, I was always a wimpy swimmer, hoping I could get from one end of the pool to the other without huffing and puffing. But the recent cardio and weight training have increased my fitness level to where I almost enjoy doing laps. I had never really connected the concept of cross training before.

Many of the yoga positions I learned came back to me, and I’ve combined them with stronger muscles to avoid stiffness and increase my range of motion. Now I can sit cross legged on the floor, bend over my legs, and almost touch my nose to the floor. The next thing you know I’ll probably sign up for that TV show, “Dancing With the Stars.”

Today is Valentine’s Day, and Earl and I spent most of it bonding with Con Ed. No, I don’t mean the electric company; I mean continuing education, an annual requirement for those of us who wish to keep their real estate licenses active.

I’m not sure I do, but I do want the option. So once a year, I spend the day learning about recent changes in Michigan’s real estate law, a topic that has the appeal of a sun-dried apricot. However, the alternative is to lose one’s license and pay a large fee to regain it.

Annually Realtors® around the area herd into the local college auditorium to hear a six-hour lecture on such interesting topics as mold in residential homes, new ways of surveying property, court cases we should know, etc. At its best the course provides necessary information; at its worst, it induces sleep. More often than not, staying awake is the challenge.

Last year, I sat in the back (which is unusual for me) because I brought my current crocheting project, figuring I could multitask as the instructor droned on. I got a lot done on my afghan that day. This year I’d planned to do the same thing, but decided to bring other paperwork instead, because the project I am working on now requires total concentration. The class might allow for doing two things at once; my crochet project doesn’t.

So now Earl’s and my licenses are good for another year. We celebrated by going out for an early Valentine’s Day bite, beating the crowds that are filled with amateurs, and arriving home in time to watch some of the Olympics.

I crocheted while I watch the TV.