Walking from the Evil Fat Spirits

Today I was planning on discussing an issue of utmost importance, something that would promote peace of mind, and radically change the world that I live in.  I was going to discuss my hair and a new style for it, but honestly I’ve lost interest in my hair…at least for today.  I’ve got something more completely geeky exciting to share to with you.

Today I made a big purchase.  I mean it is my anniversary week and in our vows FringeMan did promise to love me in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, and buy me gifts every now and then.  Well, I may be delusional about the gifts parts, but if I were to be married again (to FringeMan of course!), I would definitely write my own vows.  It would be so much more entertaining heartfelt.  I don’t think uncle Leonard would have ever fallen asleep during my wedding if I had written my own vows.

I digress.  It’s the gift that’s important right now, not replanning my wedding.  Although another bridal shower sure would be useful…new towels, sheets, a kitchen timer.  Ahhhh, I dream.

Ok, I bought an $11 clearance pedometer.

Are you let down?

Did you think I bought diamonds or something?  It’s only my twelfth anniversary.  I heard pedometers were standard gifts for the twelfth anniversary.  After twelve years, your steps slow, your bottom spreads, and you start to jiggle just a little bit more than you did on the fifth anniversary.  Yes, pedometers are what you get for your twelfth anniversary and I couldn’t be happier.

It all started last week when I arrived at school just a little too early to pick up my kids.  I didn’t want to lurk around the playground acting like I have absolutely no life and nothing better to do than walk to school fifteen minutes early, so I strolled to the library where I grabbed a new book off the shelf.

The story was about a single woman who had just accepted a buyout from her company (a sneaker manufacturer) and found herself home without a life, so she started walking.  Ends up two neighbors start walking with her.  They track their mileage and take a fantastic trip complete with romance, exercise, and fields of lavender.  I could summarize the entire book with this one sentence:  It was a chick flick in print.

So I became intrigued by the idea of keeping track of my steps each day.  I’m a dork like that.  I would also like to lose a few pounds, although that’s more of a dream than having another bridal shower without having another wedding.  All the evil fat spirits have joined forces against me and have ensured I won’t burn any more calories than absolutely necessary to stay alive.

But.

I. Will. Walk. On.

My goal is 10,000 steps per day, because that’s what I’ve read you should walk if you want to lose weight; however, I’m getting a little nervous.  I’ve been wearing this pedometer for exactly one hour and thirty-eight minutes and I’ve already walked 1,835 steps.  I’ve also been sitting here at my computer writing this absurdly long and boring post that you won’t read.  I haven’t left my house and I’m not exactly in prime physical shape.

I actually landed up in the emergency room on Monday night because I couldn’t breath.  I have asthma so it’s not that unusual, but this time I needed medical intervention.  I needed a bucket load of drugs that I’ll be on all week.  So I’ve been taking it easy in the activity department.

I’ve only walked back and forth to school each day and I’ve skipped the long drag my dog takes me on each night.  I only need to walk to school by 8:30 tomorrow morning, stay for a half-hour program, walk home, walk back to school to meet my son’s fourth grade class at 10:45 for a field trip, walk to the historical society with them because we all know fourth graders are dying to go to the historical society, and then walk back to school and back to home.  I will then take lots of drugs and walk back to school in the afternoon to pick up my darling little children.

See, I’m not being that active this week.  My lungs just can’t handle it.  So I fear that I normally walk 10,000 steps in a day and that the evil fat spirits are playing tricks on my metabolism and that I’ll need to walk 20,000 steps a day in order to lose a pound.

I also fear I’ll continue writing in run-on sentences long after these meds have worked their way out of my system.

Wanna go for a walk with me?  Each day I’m going to post my steps in my sidebar.  Public humiliation is a good motivator for me.