When I was young, I was often accused of being a fast walker. I was also a loud talker–but that is a story for another day. I distinctly remember one of my friends telling me to slow down as we made our way to the comic book shop. I didn’t think I was rushing, but he certainly did.
This morning I turned right onto the street perpendicular to mine to start the short but arduous trek to the bus stop. In my peripheral vision, I spotted a moving shadow in the darkness that is early morning still. I knew I was ahead and expected to lose them along the way. I was leaving late and I was a little afraid of missing the bus. In addition, I was, after all, a fast walker.
Not so, it turns out. The shadow quickly closed the distance between us and the sound of feet crunching on snow became insistent. Within metres, he (as I quickly discovered) passed me and was in the lead.
Vainly, I tried to maintain pace, but could not. With each step, this lanky person was widening the gap. It was the longer stride, I told myself. He probably had drunk several cups of espresso I wagered. I reassured myself that he was probably trying to get to the earlier bus.
I felt better when he broke into a bit of a trot–a feat made more impressive by the heavy work boots he was wearing. However, I still felt cold grip of age and luring intensity of Christmas food indulgences. In light of yesterday’s cycling plans/dreams, this does not bode well.
Today's Perfect Moment 