I'm in a love/hate relationship, and it's high time I talked about it.

I love a good walk on a country road in the spring and the summer, breathing in the fresh air and scent of the grass just mowed down, wandering the neighborhood and throwing up a hand to neighbors enjoying that cup of morning coffee on the front porch.

I've tried to join the throngs of runners who slam out their stress at a rapid fire pace, but it just wasn't for me. I prefer to take life in at a slower pace, sneakers gently slapping against the pavement.

I'm a walker.

I love it.

But I'm also a driver.

I'm coming to hate walking.

Or is it walkers?

I'm sorry. Hate is a strong word, but you're pretty awful. Wandering down country roads without a care in the world, breathing in the fresh air and the scene of the grass just mowed down, wandering the neighborhoods and throwing up a hand to the neighbors enjoying that cup of morning coffee.

You like to live at a slower pace, sneakers gently slapping against the pavement.

You want to share the road, but you're not always so good at sharing.

Sometimes you're just plain in the way.

Not always, of course. Not when you follow the rules, walking against traffic and being sure to heed the cars coming and going. Not when you move to the side, walk single file, keep your dogs in line, and your kids safe.

If you're shaking your head and clucking, perhaps you too have lived on narrow country roads for much of your life, have walked them and loved it, driven them and hated it.

If you're confused, well, maybe this one's for you.

I love walking. I just wish I didn't hate it so much.