April in Montreal this year is unusually warm. I take advantage of the mild weather by jogging around a high school track, counting laps. Other people join me, some running, some walking. The more adventurous are bare-legged and short-sleeved. We all go in circles as we tally minutes or kilometers.
My completed laps remind me of some of the milestones in my life - getting married and then divorced, buying my first house, selling stories and articles to magazines, learning to speak in public and giving motivational talks. Years rushed by as I squeezed more activities into less time.
Now my pace has slowed, enough for me to notice the crows watching from the top of lamp posts and see the rays of sunshine shrink behind a row of trees.
Going around this track, there's no destination, no purpose except to appreciate my feelings of well-being and breathe in the cool evening air.
The journey is all that matters.