I hate exercising. Not all exercise, mind you. I like touch football and ultimate Frisbee. I like softball and volleyball and pick-up basketball. But plain good old aerobic exercise for the sake of my heart, etc., I just don’t care for.

However, I do it anyway (though not as much as I should). I always feel good afterward and I know it has a huge effect on my expected lifetime. [1]

At this point, I need you to go with me on a brief journey. Fire this up:

Big Sciota by Mark Johnson

So while I am up at our mountain cabin (aka “The Best Place on Earth” [2]), I decided to get out and log some serious miles on the New Balances. I went out the driveway, across the bridge over the creek, and turned east, downstream.This is the view that I had as I turned out onto the state road.

Reset the odometer on the hand-held GPS, [3] and fired up the iPod. Next thing I knew, I’d left the main state road and veered into the road that follows the creek toward the New River. In my recent memory, that road was unpaved.

There was a great blue heron, probably four feet tall, stalking the creek, which had filled overnight with a big thunderstorm.

Folks in their American pick-ups, on their way to church, slowed and crossed to the far side of the road as they passed. Almost without fail, they waved.

Checking the GPS, I was keeping a solid 4 MPH pace – not a jog, but a brisk walk. The pavement ended and I went into a shaded tunnel where it was almost chilly.

The road along the creek is cradled by the hills on all sides, so everywhere I looked up, there were beautiful treed vistas.

Then, an amazing thing happened. I reached the point where I’d been out for 30 minutes; my goal was to do an hour on the road – four miles. But I didn’t turn around. Sometimes I push myself a bit further in my workouts, but that’s pure Protestant work ethic coming to the fore (“I’m miserable so this must be very good for me”). This time, I was just enjoying myself. The music (all bluegrass and old-time instrumentals) was great, the scenery spectacular, the weather cool. And I felt great.

I went an extra 15 minutes and ended up doing almost six miles round-trip. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be a gym rat, but for once, it felt good to feel good while I was working out.

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[1] I am reminded of the time years ago when I was talking to my shrink, expressing qualms about my upcoming vasectomy. She wondered, “Are you concerned about no longer being able to procreate, have biological children, etc?” “No, I’m delighted with the outcome. It’s the bit involving a man with a scalpel near my privates that bothers me.”

[2] This expression ™ my friend and colleague Lara W., who I first heard use it in reference to her vacation cottage in Canada. The more I heard about her place, the more I realized that it holds the same special importance for her as this cabin does for me. So I co-opted the name, telling her that I felt that everybody should have a Best Place on Earth.

[3] Yes, I’m a geek. I wanted to maintain a good but not excessive pace.