Cold. Bone-chilling, ear-freezing cold. The icicles, hanging from the eves of the houses and making a frozen fringe around the bottoms of the cars, even the power lines look like some sort of early Christmas decorations. And the frost on the lawns, ice on the windows, and the wonderful, smokey smell of fires in the neighbor's fireplaces - all lets me know that I'm dreaming and it's time to get up and go for a walk.

I get up, put on my shorts and T shirt, and go out to water the lawn and feed the dog before my walking partner - always just on time - rolls up. But it IS really cold - I add a sweatshirt, and a cap. But I must say, the cold got through. My ears were very cold by time we hit the first half-mile, and I was thinking about going in early. I had set out some gloves, but decided not to bring them. Bad choice. But I pressed on. Up the hill, heart pounding. By the time we reached the fourth mile, we started to jog just to get the blood flowing. And by the fifth mile we flat-out ran. Not working. We were still too cold. So, we pressed on even harder. There is a second hill nearby, which we refer to as "Widowmaker." We have never done Widowmaker, because you have to have completed about six miles of hard walking/jogging before you even get to the bottom of it. And it is so steep that you need four-wheel drive vehicles to drive up. You had better not be anemic if you plan to run up Widowmaker: the altitude will get to you - the air is so thin.

Eagles like to nest at the top. Clouds roll by and sometimes you lose sight of the coastline below. There is a red, blinking light to warn off commercial aircraft, but you can't generally see that from the foothills below. It is on all the charts - and we turned and began the ascent. I called work to let them know I would be late, knowing also that there is no cell service at the top. My walking partner called 911 to have them on standby...

And on we ran. Muscles pumped. Hearts almost bursting from our chests. Lungs on fire, feet pounding a steady rhythm. This is what it's like to be in shape. This is what I have been working so hard to achieve. This is my moment - I am all man, all muscle, a tool of power and speed, a finely-tuned machine about to bring this mountain into submission. About the twelfth mile I looked down. The thin air, was it playing with my mind? Was I about to hit the runner's 'wall?' No... The comforter was falling off my bed. I was slowly waking up - what an amazing dream: a dream within a dream.

I better get up and go for my walk.

But someday...