S.A.D.

Seasonal effective disorder.

According to our friends at Wikipedia, most people who suffer from winter depression have normal moods through the rest of the year, but experience depressive symptoms in the winter, largely due to lack of light.

I don't suffer from S.A.D., but I have been feeling like a bit of a mushroom recently.

I leave for work in the dark, go home in the dark, and sift through shit all day. Bring on some daylight.

So, last week, in the apocalypse that usually follows New Years -- the same apocalypse that results in long line-ups at the Pec-Dec machine at the gym -- a few of my co-workers and I decided to start a Walking Club.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions -- so you'd better bring your walking shoes.

The first rule of Walking Club is (of course) there is no Walking Club. The second rule of Walking Club is, Walking Club waits for no one.

This second rule is supremely important when it comes to my co-workers who are (and I say this in the most loving way) about as self-disclipined as kittens.

When you say, "Okay time to go," they usually disburse like they've been shot out of a rifle. One fiddles with her scarf here, another sends an email there, a third stares blankly into space like he's having a Grand Mal.

The rule is we leave at 12:30, no matter what. And we're back by 1.

Short walk, yes. But manageable for even the busiest of us.

Yesterday was Day One and it felt supremely good to leave the office midday for some physical activity. Three of the eight people who signed up for Walking Club did the power walk from Yonge and Bloor to Rosedale Station and back. A perfect cobweb burner.

When I was a smoker, I'd at least get outside five times a day, but as a nonsmoker who always brings her lunch, I can go weeks without exiting the building during daylight hours.

Third rule of Walking Club is that someone chooses a different route each day. Today I think we're walking to College Park.