An Evening Walk

It has been a long time since I wanted to go to bed early due to physical weariness.  This evening, my roommate and I went on a long walk on a wooded trail, then spent nearly twenty minutes on the swings, because we’re adults.  I was quite worn out by the time we were done, mostly because I am horrendously out of shape.  It’s a good feeling, though, one that I’ve missed without realizing that I missed it.

So much of my life these days has been stationary.  My job is fairly physical, true, but the moment I get home I sit down in front of my computer, and for hours the only parts of me that will move are my hands.  Sometimes not even them, if I’m being particularly lazy and just scrolling through Facebook or Pinterest.  Books take up much of the rest of my time, and physical activity isn’t a priority for me.

As a kid, though, I was a mover and shaker.  I did gymnastics and soccer for years, and I was always climbing trees and running across the fields.  In high school I did marching band, and anyone who doesn’t believe that to be a sport has never held up a three-pound weight for eight minutes straight whilst playing fortissimo and running the equivalent of the hundred-yard dash in step. 

I’ve become more introspective over the years, I suppose.  Able to find privacy and inspiration in my own head, I didn’t spend as much time looking for it outdoors.  But when I gave up these activities, I also gave up the thrill of a racing pulse, the pleasant almost-ache of warm muscles, the sweet rush of quickened breath.  Tonight’s excursion, however brief, reminded me that sometimes it’s just as nice to exist inside this body as away from it.  And this world, with its cloudy moons, soft breezes, cool raindrops, and yes, swingsets, is just as wonderful—if not more so—as any I could create.