In the month or so since I announced my intention to move more, we had a juggernaut of a snowstorm here on the East Coast. Perhaps you experienced that, too? Ironically, the snowstorm was good for my walking plan. Over the wintry weekend, I walked more than 25,000 steps (definitely above average) — and it was exhilarating!
Of course, those two days were the exception to the rule, but I'd say my efforts have been at least moderately successful. And I've learned some important lessons, too.
On the Saturday of Winter Storm Jonas, while my kids were playing outside and my husband was shoveling, I started walking. I wanted to see what was going on in my neighborhood — and I wanted to try out my new boots. I wound up walking down one of our busier streets, which was eerily free of cars. I texted my husband, and asked if he wanted a cappuccino from our favorite coffee shop. By the time I arrived, the place was packed, I was covered in the white stuff, and it was awesome — so awesome that I repeated my trek on Sunday, after the snow had stopped and everyone was digging out.
The blizzard reminded me that, even though I went back to the gym (where they are still playing Barefoot Contessa incessantly and the Wi-Fi connection is still wonky), I prefer walking outside to walking on the treadmill. As a general rule, I like to keep active and busy and I find that in January, there's a mental battle between my need for down time and introspection after the holiday season, and the inevitable onset of cabin fever, precipitated more often than not by precipitation. And taking a stroll outside helps mediate those two extremes.
My micro-resolution has also provided a keen opportunity to be kinder to myself. When we have to put too much effort into something, to really force it, it can backfire. Changes can be challenging (even small ones like this) — and let's face it, sometimes the weather and life's schedules don't want to cooperate. Just committing to the goal and making it happen whenever feasible feels, to me at least, like a victory to be celebrated.
One more note on the subject of sleep: So far, moving more — five days on a good week; three days at minimum — hasn't had the positive, relaxing impact I had hoped it would. But these things take time. For now, I'm just trying to pay attention to how I'm feeling and to remind myself that tomorrow is, as they say, is another day.