walking the walk

I've been walking. One foot in front of the other. Usually at my own pace, a little slower than some with small steps to match my short legs.
In the evening with my husband or a friend. In the mornings by myself with only the dogs watching me from the porch. Up and down the road, back and forth. It's quiet. It's warm. I can think and feel and breathe.

My legs ache and my feet buzz. But the rush is there, just enough to flush my cheeks and make my heart beat a little faster. The moments are quick and slow, the time is my own. I can hear my words in my head as I go over everything in life I want to ponder.

Things become clearer. Every step takes me closer to my goal, my moment of total satisfaction. I keep getting the feeling I'm doing the right thing. I'm on the right path. I don't know what's ahead of me, and so I keep walking. Forward. Onward. Closer and closer to the finish line, wherever it may be. Whenever it may come.

(source)

Some people like to run. I like to walk.