Another day, another extra minute

The dog needs a longish walk every day, even with her within five months of turning 11. For more than a decade, a good percentage of those walks occurred at night. The mornings and afternoons were busy with work and kids, and finding an uninterrupted 30-60 minutes proved a challenge. So, after Lori mostly retired for the night and the boys were off doing their things (and, earlier in the 2010s, after they went to bed), or after we completed whatever evening activities the boys had, I would get Popcorn out for her walk.

Of course, winter expands the night so that even an earlier walk is likely in the dark. That's why early-evening walks in April and May are so nice -- we can get out at 7 p.m. and still have sunlight. 

For years, I guess I never really minded the night-time walks. But as I've grown older, the late excursions have felt more and more unappealing. Although some of this surely is a craving for sunlight during winter -- and the loneliness winter nights tend to evoke with me -- I also think this growing aversion is rooted in trying to get the most of every day. Being cooped up only to force myself out of doors in the evening now feels draining. 

For the last month or so, I've been trying to get the dog out before dark as much as I could. And the last week, it's been almost every day. I still get her around the block in the evening, but the longer walk has been a late-afternoon choice instead of after dinner ... or later. And it's helping me survive January (even in an inversion), because every day, that sunset is a minute or two later each day. Tonight I started my walk around 5 and manged to get home before the sun set. 

This shift is another reminder: If I have priorities and goals, I need to plan for them. A noon walk is possible if I can be productive before and after. Spring is not that far away, and rather than let my days drive me, I need to drive my days.