learning all over again

I began to walk again today. Let me re-phrase that: I’ve started to walk for pleasure and exercise again. And I’ve recommitted to journaling as part of that morning practice. Exercise and writing are wonderful counterpoints.

I’ve whined, complained and made excuses for my lack of exercise since I moved into my new place over a year ago. My morning schedule and routine both changed. I live in a high-rise now and somehow that excused my getting out the door for fresh air and a brisk walk. (The closest I get to a workout is walking up seven flights after collecting the mail.) The bordering streets are filled with cars and trucks whizzing by like Hot Wheels at top speed – not exactly conducive to the meditative-style walk that I prefer.

So I latched onto any possible excuse -- fabricating and prevaricating. Finally, however, my frustration had grown in proportion to my ever-expanding waistline, and on Saturday I made the commitment to begin again today. I was equally committed to sleeping late on Sunday as the clocks robbed us of an hour, but today would be back to normal.

As promised, this morning I began again and had to share half of my route with smelly, noisy autos. But, hey, they held commuters captive to their schedules and I am relatively free to time my walk to suit myself. I’m still not entirely familiar with this neighborhood so I’ll make a point of strolling through and checking out the surrounding area for quiet streets. I like hearing wind rustling through leaves and pine trees, peeking into yards and catching glimpses of birds at feeders, checking out homeowners’ plantings, watching the sky change -- generally letting my mind and senses wander. I bet that I’ll find what I need within a few blocks.

As I reluctantly tied up my shoes this gray early morn, I realized that I need to adopt a “just do it” attitude each day and once out the door, it will be a non-issue as I head off to explore my new surroundings. I also thought of my mother who, in her eighties, is committed to walking daily. She has good and bad days and still makes herself do it to maintain her mobility and other health benefits. What can I say? She puts me to shame.

I risk something by airing this commitment publicly, but am also comfortable with the fact that I don’t have to report in here either. What would make me happy is to re-integrate something I’ve enjoyed and benefited from in the past. I just feel better when I walk, meditate and write. I feel more grounded, centered and focused, and enter and move through my days with greater ease no matter what comes my way. Conclusions: my (re)inaugural walk energized me; sipping tea and journaling afterward in the quiet was comfortingly familiar and welcome; and tomorrow is another day.

Note: Weeks have passed and it's worth noting that my friend's father died. She and I did go to the Flower Show together -- couldn't have been in better company.