I’m not sure of its origin. Deep down, I know it’s nuts.

I’m talking about the seemingly never-ending urge and delight I get from shoveling snow.

In recent years, the urge has reached a feverish pitch with our lengthy, 60-foot by 20- foot driveway. It’s not paved and steep. It’s covered with crushed stone. And when the snow (aided by a strong wind) piles up and drifts, it can be nearly impossible to get a vehicle up to our garage.

That is, unless the driveway is cleared off.

You’d think I would have leaned heavily on my two, able-bodied kids these past years to shovel. Isn’t that why we have them? You know, grandchildren, someone to take care of us when we get older and feeble  – someone to mow the lawn.

Yet, for some reason, I relish getting up earlier than everyone else on snowy days and getting all the snow cleared off. I love it when my wife or the kids look out the window and say, “Hey, the driveway is shoveled!”

I take great satisfaction and pride in saying, “Somebody’s got to do it.”

In some ways it’s linked to my athletic/jock past. I ran competitively in high school and college, and played soccer on several men’s teams for years after.

Due to injuries and age, those days are over. However, I still have that “workout mentality” when it comes to physical activities.

I look upon shoveling snow as a workout. I love the challenge, how my muscles burn. The sweat.  It’s my way of holding on to the idea that I’m still in decent, physical shape.

I know I can’t keep doing this forever. I know several friends and acquaintances that have had heart attacks shoveling snow. Last month, I began experiencing some discomfort in my chest and contacted my doctor.

I went through a stress test on a treadmill. The results were fortunately all positive. In my mind, it cleared the way for another season of snow shoveling.

Some may ask: “Why do you torture yourself? What about a snow blower?”

I’m cheap. That’s the same reason I don’t pay someone else to do it.

Second, I’ve tried a big snow blower before and due to the unevenness of our driveway, it seems to keep breaking down and throwing too many rocks.

I recently inherited a small snow blower from my father-in-law and have been trying that out. However, I’ve found out that when the snow gets above 8 inches deep or more, it’s relatively worthless.

When that happens, there’s just no substitute for good old-fashion shoveling.

The big problem, though, is that I was spoiled by the lack of snow last winter. I didn’t shovel much. I got weak. I gained weight.

And with a variety of work-related and personal distractions this year, I didn’t lift weights.

Bottom line: The first big snow last week was a bear. After shoveling, I came inside sore and shaky. My lower back was stiff. I took a hot shower, popped a few aspirin and took a nap.

When the second big storm hit, I swallowed my pride and got my daughter, my visiting brother, and my niece and nephew outside to help.

I know I can’t keep shoveling snow forever. With the kids both out of the house, I’m eventually going to have to pass on the shovel – maybe even (gulp) hire a local snowplow guy or neighborhood kid.

Meanwhile, somebody’s got to do it.