Years ago, when I started riding a borrowed stationary bike for exercise, I struggled to get through a workout. I counted down the minutes because I was bored out of my mind. Listening to music and/or watching TV didn’t relieve the boredom.

So, I studied on the matter and decided to try reading whilst riding. It worked. Later, when I started walking inside my house – and eventually on a treadmill – I continued the practice.

It seemed so ingenious that I wondered why I hadn’t started reading whilst exercising years earlier. After all, I’m able to perform two worthwhile and self-helpful activities at once. Talk about a win-win.

But then I reminded myself that for years I walked outside with my late dog, the lovely and talented Mia Frances Goff. Reading whilst walking outdoors sounds dangerous. By the way, now that I’m used to reading whilst walking, I feel like I’m slacking if I walk outdoors. I feel like I should also be performing a secondary activity like folding laundry or changing a lightbulb.

Although reading whilst walking has enhanced my workouts, reading print books whilst walking offers challenges. Firstly, I must hold the book because it won’t fit on the treadmill. Secondly, I must turn the pages. Thirdly, as my hands become sweaty, I must deal with moistened pages. This ordeal represents one reason I’ve become a fan of ebooks in my advanced age. With one swipe I can turn a page on my device, which rests comfortably on the treadmill.

Other than the minor inconvenience caused by print books, I have identified only one problem with reading whilst exercising. On some days, I realize I just cannot walk for exercise. There’s no way I can raise one leg onto the treadmill, which offers a more demanding workout, or even put one foot in front of the other to walk inside the house. It’s too much to ask. It cannot be done.

Occasionally, this is due to mental exhaustion or a migraine. That’s understandable. But I’ve also come to realize that from time to time, it’s because I dread to read one more word of whatever book I’m reading.

It always takes me a few days to admit I no longer want to spend time with certain fictional characters or to continue inhabiting the nonfictional world I’ve entered. But when this realization finally dawns on me, I download another book and don my walking shoes.

Until I develop mental exhaustion, a migraine, or an aversion to whatever book I’m reading.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.