When you go outside for damn dog's potty break, you may want to wear your running shoes. You just might run into the neighbor you are trying to impress who is out jogging ten times around the block to lose those last few pounds. So you may very well join her (as our block is quite small), thinking this would be a great chance to get to know each other and spend that one on one time you have yet to enjoy since the move.
TWENTY minutes later, you may find that you are still jogging (ahem, speed walking) around the block, nearly dragging damn dog along (as she's not used to exercise), you will smell like a pig, and you will have blisters the shape of a large "C" on both of your heels because you were (of course) barefoot. You will gracefully excuse yourself when you pass up your house for the fifth time, walk inside the door, and CRASH onto the floor. (Both you AND damn dog on the cracked linoleum floor in the kitchen, panting---trying to explain to your husband between breaths why it took you twenty minutes to poop the dog.)