Step goals. Sprained ankle. Wheezing. Asthma. Kids. Daytime. Nighttime. Sleep. Fatigue.
Step goals are hard to reach. Every day, using my Noom app, my step goal is increased by 150-300 steps every time I hit the step goal the day before. If I miss my step goal, it drops 150-300 steps. When I first started Noom, I was so excited. I thought to myself, “300 steps? That’s a drop in the hat! It only takes like, five minutes to walk 300 steps!”
I forgot that 300 steps over a period of a week is actually 2,100 steps, which is a lot more than five minutes worth of steps. In theory, I should have hit my step goal of 10,000 per day by mid-February.
It’s April 11.
My Noom step goal is currently 3,450, which is actually lower than my nutritionist wants me to aim for, which is 4,000-5,000. Normally, these numbers would discourage me, but for some reason I’m not too worried about it.
For one thing, I sprained my ankle two months ago and it’s still not really healed. Walking hurts. A lot. My doctor says it’s not fractured (which I was worried about) and to just keep resting it, but seriously, how am I supposed to rest? I’m also a mom, and I have a full-time job, and I am trying to reach step goals, and I have laundry to do and dishes to clean and cats to feed and weight to manage and weight to manage and weight to manage! I digress.
For another thing, I’m currently just accepting that this is what weight loss looks like. It’s up, then it’s down, then it’s up, then it’s down. Right now, my step goals are down. Tomorrow, they will be a little higher. This weekend they’ll probably drop again. Then Monday I’ll go to the zoo with my parents and walk 25,000 steps and feel like I’ve conquered the world, then Tuesday we’ll lounge around the house and the goal will drop again.
A brief segue:
I eat out way too much. And by “way too much,” I mean, “almost every day.” I don’t know why. I mean, we frequently have leftovers from dinner the night before. I buy soups and microwave meals and love me a good sandwich. (Mmmmm… sandwiches…) But there’s something inside me that nags at me when lunchtime hits:
“I must leave my place of work to take my break.”
It’s been this way since my first full-time job in college. Every single one of my coworkers would tell me, “Make sure you leave the office to take your break or you’ll get sick of this place.” It’s engrained into me. “Leave the building or you’ll implode.” And well, since I don’t really “do” the outdoors very well, I can either sit in my car eating my leftovers, or I can go to a restaurant and sit down. This seems like it should be a no-brainer, but in case you missed it, I don’t want to sit in my car for an hour during lunch. And even if I did, this still doesn’t make sense to me. I love my job. I have no desire to leave it during the day. We have a beautiful building to walk around in and comfy couches to sit in and read. (Or, let’s be honest, nap.) The point is, I need to break this habit. It’s fattening and expensive and really… quite lonely for an extrovert.
Now, to tie it all together.
With the help of my nutritionist, therapist, and church-neighborhood friends, I am going to be taking a bunch of steps (see what I did there?) to change my habits and increase my step goals.
Meeting a friend in the neighborhood to walk my lunch break with me. I figure I’ll invite myself over (true story – I have no shame), bring my leftovers so they don’t have to cook for me, and after eating quickly, we’ll take a walk or five around the block.
Truly, this sounds like the most amazing lunch break to me. I NEED my people. I NEED my girls. I need sunshine and exercise and fresh air and talking to the amazing women in my life who I love and who love me.
After that, I have another little thing to help that I’ve been implementing. My pedometer has a “sedentary” timer that I’ve set to 30 minutes. If I go a whole 30 minutes without walking, it’ll buzz me; I’ve been taking just one-minute walks up and down my office hallway every time it buzzes. I’m sure I’m bugging my coworkers by now. (But isn’t that a perk?)
After that, I’ve got little micro things. Taking the stairs or a ramp instead of the elevator. Walking up and down the driveway while my son plays in the yard or walking in a loop around the playground when I take him to the park. Walking in place in my kitchen while I’m washing dishes or waiting for water to boil or something.
Little things add up. Here’s hoping they add up a lot.