Walking through the Woods on a Cold Morn

I really did not want to go for my walk this morning. At 5am, it is dark, it is cold (12 degrees F), and I swear I hear my bones creak as I pull on my walking shoes. Fortunately, I am out the door and down the driveway before I come up with a reason why I cannot go. When you stand still in the cold, it seeps into you slowly while you realize how quiet the world can truly be. I am dressed for walking not for loitering, so I start down the velvety dark road at a brisk pace, my breath hangs in the air in front of me.

At the half mile mark, my exertion starts to warm me. My fingers are still chill as are my cheeks. I even unzip my jacket a little. Six cars pass me as I walk. An unusually high number. They all know me though. None of them turn on their bright lights. I am thankful for that. I am in the groove. My body is on autopilot. I am along for the ride. I move effortlessly. If I did not hear the rhythmic crunch of the gravel under my foot, I might be gliding.

At the one mile mark, I turn and head for home. There is truly no wind this morning. It feels exactly the same coming home as it does going out. I am tempted to jog a little, but I do not. My knees would not like it. Finally, I turn up the driveway, and the soft glow of home fills my senses. Warm air surrounds me and caresses me as I walk through the doorway. The walk is done and I am better for it. Now my guilt free day begins.

I really did not want to go for a walk this morning, but I did and I am glad for it.