Do
you use one of those health apps or gadgets that tracks your steps?
If
so, how diehard are you about the results? Like, do you check
them out every few days or so, if you remember, just to see what
they offer? Do you have them open while you’re working out, and
mutter curses when the results take time to download and then
appear? Do you head out on a walk already knowing exactly what
the numbers should be when you finish?
I
ask because today I learned that I might need to take a step back.
Probably not, and there’s a really small chance that I could have
a fantastic suggestion for updating an app. But it’s definitely
a consideration based on being in the deep end of the pool.
Lately
I’ve been trying to pay a bit more attention to my exercise routines.
By that, I mean actually applying ranges and expectations to my
daily efforts. Examples include things like knowing how long I
ride my stationary bike, or how far I go when I use it. Or, when
I set out on a walk or two each day, trying to reach a minimum
number of steps or miles covered.
This
morning, I was getting ready to head out for about an hour and
realized I couldn’t find my phone. Forget trees falling in the
forest, if a person goes for a walk and doesn’t have a phone,
do the steps even count?
That
thought skipped around in my head for a few minutes as I meandered
from room to room, trying to find my phone. The more I looked,
the more I was aware that I probably had added a couple of hundred
steps to my day just trying to find it. Which, eventually, I did.
(Find it, that is. The steps were just a necessary part of the
search.)
(Oh,
right. Nightstand. For some crazy reason, I never moved it this
morning from my nightstand. While this will vault the nightstand
up a few notches on my search order tomorrow when I invariably
misplace my phone again, it won’t be enough for it to rank above
the table next to the chair I usually sit in while watching TV
or the counter next to my wallet and car keys. Those two are kind
of locked in at the top spots. Though the pocket of my jeans,
where I tend to leave it far more often than I will admit when
I get home and switch to sweatpants, keeps threatening to climb
into the lead.)
Ok,
so I found my phone, but also realized it would be kind of cool
if I could manually add a hundred steps to my day.
It’s
a thought I’ve had before. Doing things around the house, phone
needed to be charged so you set that up, and when you finished
mowing the lawn or making the beds or whatever items were on the
list for the day, you realized you were exhausted but also that
you really didn’t have any documented credit for the efforts.
Once in a while, if you ever check out your health app, it might
occur to you that weed-whacking is a thankless job in many ways,
with no recorded value for the walking you do a big item in the
thankless list.
This
is the part of my essay where I want to tell you that almost everything
I write goes through a multiple checkpoint process before it kicks
off an actual project. This is not a multiple checkpoint list
that provides quality assurances, sorry to say. It’s a process,
not a list. Impulse essay starts do not mean impulse essay completions.
Instead, it means that most ideas need a separate confirmation.
Specifically…
I
was walking around the house looking for my phone, and a random
thought clanking about was wondering if I could claim extra credit
for the steps involved. Ha ha, funny thought, let me write that
down as a reminder for later so I can think about it.
That
would be the impulse.
The
confirmation came all of twenty seconds later, when I made the
note for later, put the pen down, stood up and headed to the door
to begin that walk, but quickly realized I didn’t have my phone.
I had left it someplace when I walked to the desk to jot down
a note about the whole missing from my daily count steps idea.
At that point I added another twenty steps going back into the
bedroom to retrieve it from the dresser, along with understanding
there was more to this than I originally thought.
The
crazy thing is, there is a simpler way to approach all of this.
Instead of counting steps, I could easily track my progress by
landmarks. Front door down the road a piece, three stop signs
later turn around and return. Repeat daily. Add a bit each day
if I want to do more. Instead of walking to the third stop sign,
cross the street after it and walk to the next telephone pole
before turning around. Day after that, walk two telephone poles
beyond the sign.
Same
with the stationary bike and other assorted exercises. (In fact,
given the consistency and accuracy of the pedometers and apps
and health trackers, there are some very strong arguments I might
be better off counting telephone poles I pass as I walk and how
many sitcom episodes I watch during my rides.)
I
suppose in the end there’s definitely something to be said for
how much activity goes into the stairs you descend and climb getting
the laundry done and finishing your chores, or how much ground
you cover in the grocery store and pharmacy while running your
errands. But somehow it feels like the point of exercise is putting
in a bit more than the average everyday stuff. And that’s where
adding steps manually to my daily count probably falls apart.
(Still,
I’m searching for my phone on a regular basis. It sure feels like
that investment of time should be worth something.)