Day 32

Today I hit a wall. The sky was overcast, and the previous night had not given me the rest this sometimes weary shell I recognize as my body, needs. Yes, there have been other mornings that I really didn't want to "go for a walk", but not enough to keep the door from opening and spitting my resistant spirit out onto the driveway that meets up with the road I choose to walk upon.

I'm an early riser, so I work on other things while I wait for the sun to rise. Today, I went back to bed for 20 minutes. Didn't help. AND, the sun didn't show itself until 6:07 (that's 5 whole minutes later than yesterday). Since I won't go outside while it's still dark, for various reasons, it gave my body time to get comfortable. And it was tired.  Poured myself a cup of coffee and stretched this aging bod while waiting. 

I've always been able to shrug off the resistance and hit the road at a fairly fast pace. It's how I'm wired. My mom was a fast walker because she had to be in order to do all that must be done in the space of a days time. Ten kids, ya know. Just not enough hours in a day. Somehow, I either learned that was the way one was supposed to walk, or it was just my "get it done" mannerism.

If anything, I'm faithful. Once I commit to something, I never waver. My mind tries to talk me out of things, but I never give up. Today, it was a mental battle. Why, I'm not sure. The weather gave us a break and it was a cool 70 degrees at 6 AM, compared to the 78 & 79 degrees I normally walk in. Perfect walking weather. So, I resolved to put one foot in front of the other and just "get it done".

A funny thing happened as I walked. I had gone about half a mile when I spotted what appeared to be a homeless man across the street. I've never seen homelessness in our area. I've seen beggars that were clearly not what they hoped you'd think they were, but never someone in our neck of the woods that reminded me of what I see on the news from time to time. Usually across the country, in California. Oh, this person hadn't set up a tent, or anything that resembled a "home". He was actually walking with a brown knapsack in one hand, and a plastic bag in the other. Not knowing his story, my heart went out to him, while at the same time finding a lot more strength in my legs than what I began with. My stride lengthened, my heart bumped up its beats-per-minute, and my arms swung just a bit faster as the pavement below my feet shortened. The next time I looked over my shoulder, he had disappeared.

It's been said that our past doesn't define us. Yet, some days I feel mine does. I do know fear can be a healthy thing at times. It helps us understand the physical and mental pain of ignoring it. But, just like everything else, we should have a healthy balance. Too much of a thing can/will destroy us (which I'm known to allow). Too much eating. Too much sleeping. Too much TV watching. Too much work, etc. You get the picture. Too little of a thing also has the capability of destroying us. So, mostly because I was alone this morning, I allowed fear to dictate my actions. What had I not noticed? Should I be afraid? Once off that stretch of road, I settled down and was able to relax my mind as I finished my walk-about.

The question I'm left with this morning, is, "Will this one event cause my faithful walking to be altered?" This is the thing...there will always be something to test our resilience. To test our fortitude. To test our faithfulness. No matter what our goals are. What, or who, rules your thoughts?

Heading into day 33, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.