This morning was different. I actually felt a genuine urge to walk to my morning client meeting at Panera, the local carbo-loading hole. To some, urges like these come naturally, at least five times a week for 30 minutes per instance. I however, have not exercised with any regularity since my wife became pregnant. How long is that? Our daughter is now six months old. You do the calculus.

I should have checked the temperature. Like any man, I opened my front door, stuck my arm out, and predicted which jacket I would need to arrive safely.

You've lived in Boston, I said to myself, what your arm just felt is Aruba-ish compared to those Nor'easters dealt  by El Niño, global warming, and the avian flu meeting a high pressure system somewhere in the vicinity of Beijing.

I filled a travel mug with coffee, grabbed a PowerBar, slung my shoulder bag over my head and walked out.

We live on a dead end street, which makes mornings and evenings especially quiet. All I could hear besides my breath was the terrifying sound of squirrel clusters giving birth. There are so many of the rodents in these parts I suspect there will be a civil war soon (can’t wait to see my first nut cannon).

Rounding two corners was really the worst of the walk. It was so dark I couldn’t even remember why the hell I wanted to do this in the first place. Besides, in Tallahassee, one tends to feel as unattractive as back hair while traveling anywhere by foot. Drivers stare as they wiz by. A cop even slowed down and eyed me as if I’d just stolen the shoulder bag. In Boston, it’s the other way around. People sees you in a car and they wonder why you’re not out walking – regardless of the weather. It’s only 35! Put on your Birkenstocks and walk!

I really began to feel the extra 30 pounds to my name at about the three-quarter mark, not to mention the cold piercing my cheeks and rubbing pain onto the perimeter of my ears. The ten extra pounds of computer, charger, notebook, bag, and PowerBar didn’t help the situation.

I arrived at my destination in about 30 minutes, ordered a coffee and bagel, toasted, and logged on. Between sentences, I grabbed each bagel half and held them to my ears a’la Princess Lea. It took about three goes before I could feel the blood arriving at the lobe warming the rest of my upper extremities.

Curious, I checked the temperature: 35 degrees. Feels like 31. My arm-ometer had let me down. I’d let myself go. I used to walk at least this far in Boston twice every day. Home to work and back again. Didn’t even think about it.

Perhaps my little trek shall prove an enlightening part of this week.

Gotta go now. My coffee’s getting cold, and my client just pulled up. Kinda looking forward to my walk back home with my PowerBar at the ready.