Tuesday was my day off this week. Last night, I took Banks only about a half mile, because I felt like being alone with my thoughts.
I was aware of a tinge of melancholia accompanying me on this particular trip. I think it is beginning to sink in, that this journey is drawing to a close. The changing weather and the shortened days are serving as markers. Ten months in, just two months to go.
Another way to look at it is as a new adventure. There is no way I have come this far, only to slack off and sink into middle-aged complacency. I'll emerge from this with a new plan. But it won't be the same. "Three days at the gym, two days of walking five miles and one day of yoga" just does not have the same sacrificial, ceremonial feeling as "five mile walk with a piebald pit."
And that's okay. What has made this special to me is the fact that it IS temporal and deliberate, and not meant to be forever. That would make it ordinary. Nothing more than a habit, albeit a healthy one.
No, things will change, and I am working on embracing that change. It just takes me a while. And tonight, Banks and I will walk at Town Lake, his favorite venue. And as this thing winds to a close, I'm going to start savoring every sight, sound, encounter and mishap.
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