Malling

I've totally been mallin', yo.

For those of you not down with my hip lingo, mallin' is simply going to the mall.  Yeah, that's pretty much it.  Impressive, I know.

I'm a fairly seasoned maller.  I've been malling since my junior high days when one of my parents would cart me and a few of my friends down to the mall in the minivan, drop us off, and come back 5 hours later after we'd seen a movie, had a few slices of pizza, and cruised around the mall looking for hot guys to alternately stare at and then ignore, too shy and intimidated to actually say something as profound as "Hello." 

Malling has changed for me throughout the years.  Where I once longed to spend hours and hours at the mall, I now dread it.  The thought of walking endlessly around a loud, crowded mall where random strangers are trying to either sell you gaudy cell phone covers or organic, mineral-based makeup, well, the thought of that makes me stay at home most of the time and shop online. 

However, I've found a place where I can go malling without the risk of having a single salesperson try to hook me in the "Can I ask you a quick questions, ma'am?" pitch.  No little kiosks full of tchotchkes, or salesmen peddling their wares.  No crowds.  No kids.  No teenagers.  In fact, the mall is all but deserted.  I can count on one hand the number of stores still open in this mall.

For those of you who live in Kansas City, and know where I live, you can probably guess that I'm talking about Metro North Mall.  For those of you who aren't familiar with this particular place, let me elaborate. 

Metro North was once a vibrant, bustling metropolis of consumerism, as most malls are.  It housed a movie theater, yummy pizza, a video arcade, typical mall stores, and of course, big department stores.  As a teenager, I spent nearly every weekend at the mall with my friends.  However, by the time I was in college, the mall had sadly deteriorated, and many stores were closing.  It was like a domino effect, and now, when I walk through the mall, I count only 5-6 shops still open for business, and only 1 department store.  It's pretty sad.  But, it's also somewhat amazing that those few stores are even there. 

So, why in the world would I spend my time there, you ask?
Because no one is there,
to get in my way,
while I am....
WALKING!

Yes, I am officially a mall walker.  Though it's a dead, or at least, nearly deceased, mall, I'm still considering myself a mall walker.  Actually, I see a lot more walkers there than shoppers.  It's quite the popular walking spot, especially with the over 60 crowd.

I found myself looking for a place to exercise last week when my husband came home and took over daughter duty so I could go out and earn some activity points.  It was hot outside.  And humid.  And I really didn't relish the thought of coming home a nasty, dripping, sweaty mess, so I tried to think of alternate places where I could walk.  The mall was my answer.  It's climate-controlled interior beckoned to me, and I fell prey to it's siren song.  

I may look goofy as I speed walk through the mall, but at least I'm comfortable, relatively safe, and out of the heat and humidity for awhile. 

And while I'm at it, I'm going to share a link to a presentation given my a doctor about what single remedy you can implement into your life to make it so much fuller, richer, and satisfying.  It was a pretty impressive talk, as I think you'll agree.  The presentation is called 23 1/2 hours.

Tomorrow is Super Saturday weigh in day, or whatever it was that I decided to call it.  We'll see if all this malling will prove more healthy for my weight loss now that Orange Julius has long bit the dust.