After work hike!
New boots with awesome traction + longer days + new, warm, lightweight coat + the return of my pedometer = evening hiking!
Amazing how having the pedometer pushes me to walk more. It disappeared Thanksgiving weekend. When I finally found it, weeks later, the battery was dead. When we finally found the time to shop for a battery, none of the stores we went to had the kind we needed in stock. Finally my love found me one. I immediately altered my habits to take the longer walk to or from work more often. I simply couldn't stand having the smaller numbers in my little pocket computer, objective evidence of my laziness.
The coat is also incentive not to regain the weight I lost. It fits comfortably, but there isn't a lot of room to spare. I was dithering over which size, and I went with the smaller one. I hope I don't regret this. For now, the coat is wonderful. My other coats were not warm enough, or poorly designed, or moth-eaten, or all three. I just wish that it had come sooner. I spent the days leading up to the storm looking for it anxiously.
Personally, I enjoy snow. Shoveling makes me feel like a kid again, being as big and brave and helpful as I know how to be. The blizzard of '78 was particularly formative. I was only 8 (almost 9), but I helped lots. And shoveling in the city is nothing like clearing the frontage on a 1/4 acre suburban lot, or digging out a driveway when the plows are continually pushing it back in. This storm the digging out went particularly well, I think. I was able to navigate the neighborhood with far more ease. Thankfully. I gave up on walking anything but the shortest route after the last big storm. I was determined not to feel so trapped this time.
We walked up to Carpenter's Woods on Sunday evening. Oh, the light was lovely. I was extremely amused to see that a day of enthusiastic neighbors playing in the snow had made all the trails beautifully tramped-down and easily navigable. This gave the courage to venture into the woods this afternoon. I told myself that I would turn back if I had to.
I didn't have to. Kitchen's Lane was smooth and clear and dry, as easy to get down as it has ever been. Then I tackled the Orange Trail, which is wooded and narrow and sometimes a bit steep. It was clear that many had been that way before. There was something exciting/comforting/disconcerting about the physical evidence of all the others as intrepid or foolhardy as I. I was alone, with only the rushing waters of the creek for company, yet clearly not alone. I did pass one man with a dog who warned me of a dangerously slippery spot up ahead. I actually took that bit on my hands and knees, since there was a dangerous drop on either side. Dignity is far less important than safety. But mostly I blessed the satisfying way my boots bit into the snow, and took it as slow as I needed to, and came home glowing.
I want more. Wonder what will happen after this next storm? I may not be so brave at first.
Amazing how having the pedometer pushes me to walk more. It disappeared Thanksgiving weekend. When I finally found it, weeks later, the battery was dead. When we finally found the time to shop for a battery, none of the stores we went to had the kind we needed in stock. Finally my love found me one. I immediately altered my habits to take the longer walk to or from work more often. I simply couldn't stand having the smaller numbers in my little pocket computer, objective evidence of my laziness.
The coat is also incentive not to regain the weight I lost. It fits comfortably, but there isn't a lot of room to spare. I was dithering over which size, and I went with the smaller one. I hope I don't regret this. For now, the coat is wonderful. My other coats were not warm enough, or poorly designed, or moth-eaten, or all three. I just wish that it had come sooner. I spent the days leading up to the storm looking for it anxiously.
Personally, I enjoy snow. Shoveling makes me feel like a kid again, being as big and brave and helpful as I know how to be. The blizzard of '78 was particularly formative. I was only 8 (almost 9), but I helped lots. And shoveling in the city is nothing like clearing the frontage on a 1/4 acre suburban lot, or digging out a driveway when the plows are continually pushing it back in. This storm the digging out went particularly well, I think. I was able to navigate the neighborhood with far more ease. Thankfully. I gave up on walking anything but the shortest route after the last big storm. I was determined not to feel so trapped this time.
We walked up to Carpenter's Woods on Sunday evening. Oh, the light was lovely. I was extremely amused to see that a day of enthusiastic neighbors playing in the snow had made all the trails beautifully tramped-down and easily navigable. This gave the courage to venture into the woods this afternoon. I told myself that I would turn back if I had to.
I didn't have to. Kitchen's Lane was smooth and clear and dry, as easy to get down as it has ever been. Then I tackled the Orange Trail, which is wooded and narrow and sometimes a bit steep. It was clear that many had been that way before. There was something exciting/comforting/disconcerting about the physical evidence of all the others as intrepid or foolhardy as I. I was alone, with only the rushing waters of the creek for company, yet clearly not alone. I did pass one man with a dog who warned me of a dangerously slippery spot up ahead. I actually took that bit on my hands and knees, since there was a dangerous drop on either side. Dignity is far less important than safety. But mostly I blessed the satisfying way my boots bit into the snow, and took it as slow as I needed to, and came home glowing.
I want more. Wonder what will happen after this next storm? I may not be so brave at first.