You know what one of the great gifts of getting older is? I get to define my Personal Best. Without all of the chatter of other people’s expectations. And my definition of my PB is a lot different than it used to be.
I’ve mentioned before that this has been a year of transformation. A complete rebuild and rebrand of, well, me! I’ve shed a lot of roles and identities and relationships that I was no longer in alignment with. In the process, I’ve shed a lot of weight, both figuratively and physically.
I made the decision earlier in the year to reclaim my time (and energy) so that I could stop using meal delivery and living on crackers and chips. I needed to get back to making healthy and delicious meals for myself because 1) it’s better for me and 2) damnit, I like to cook! And, though I didn’t start off intending for it to become my daily practice, I began walking—or engaging in some form of body movement—every day.
It began with a lap around the pond after a round of snowstorms last winter. We hadn’t had snow like that since the first winter that I lived in this apartment complex and I couldn’t wait to get out and feel the crunch of the snow under my boots. I soon realized how much I missed being out on the greenway and walking around the pond and began taking lunchtime walks so I could get away from the computer. One lap around the pond turned into two laps. Then I decided to shift my schedule to morning walks before logging into work. That allowed me to increase to three laps around the pond as I began to feel stronger and gained stamina. Also, being out early in the morning means getting to see all the bunnies!
Then came the morning where I was vibing so hard with my playlist that I accidentally walked an extra lap and decided that I would now take four laps around the water, though sometimes, usually on weekends, I’d take the extension that runs on the other side of the very busy road.
I started bumping my daily step goal up on my Fitbit from, well, however many steps it took to walk to the kitchen or bathroom a few times a day, whenever I could get away from my desk, to 4,000 steps. Then 6,500. By late spring, I increased the goal to 8,500 steps, which I now pretty much knock out before I’ve had my morning coffee (I’m averaging 10-13,000 steps a day now).
As I got closer to my birthday back in March, I realized that without really trying, I had already lost a substantial amount of weight. But I really didn’t care about that. (Shhhh! Don’t tell my doctor! She thinks this was all totally intentional.) For me the lifestyle improvement was realizing how being outside and reconnecting with nature had also reconnected me with my body and my spirit.
There are some days that I don’t get out on the greenway and I really miss it. I miss the fresh air. I miss seeing how the scenery changes just a little bit every day. I miss all of my critter friends and I especially my Turtle Therapy. And I miss seeing the people I’ve become friendly with along the path (and their dogs, naturally).
I’ve noticed another shift recently, though. This was one I really didn’t see coming, especially when I look back to the not-so-distant past and remember how feral I had become and when I acknowledge how competitive I still am. I still get a certain amount of satisfaction when I get my weekly email from Fitbit and see that I’m in first place among my friend group. And I appreciate it when I get my 3-1/2 or so miles in faster so I have more time to enjoy my coffee and do my morning ablution before logging into work.
But lately I’ve been taking more time outs during my walks. I’ll make a quick stop next to the creek to sip on my electrolyte water, and then I make a final stop on my way home next to the pond, where I hang out with the ducks and get my daily Turtle Therapy while I finish my water.
I’ve also started getting to know some of the people I greet every morning. One person in particular, an older woman, comes out with her dog and together they slowly walk along the greenway. When I encounter her, we inevitably strike up a conversation and I slow my pace to match hers. The first couple of times, the competitive part of my brain was not happy with me because it wanted me to finish the walk (THINGS TO DO! GO GO GO!). But I also realized that I was getting just as much benefit from slowing down and getting to know her and hear her stories.
I mean, for being such a feral person, I’m enjoying my time with these neighbors. How did that happen?
The latest shift really locked in for me over the weekend. If you know anything about North Carolina in the summer it’s that the heat and humidity are absolutely miserable (hence, the early morning walks because it’s the least miserable weather of the day). And if I’m being completely honest, I’m amazed that I’m still able to do my walks, even in the morning. My body does not like heat and humidity and I’m prone to migraines in that kind of weather.
Well, this past weekend we were gifted with absolutely glorious weather! The daily high temperatures dropped below 80F and the dew points dipped into the low 60s, which made the air refreshing instead of heavy.
Though Saturday was meant to be errands and resting my foot (I see a trip to The Good Feet Store in my future to deal with a nagging issue with my right foot), I couldn’t resist the pull of the greenway and hanging out by the pond and creek. As always, the ducks all gathered around me (no, I don’t feed them) and the turtles swam over to accept their greetings while looking mildly annoyed with me for not bringing them snacks.
After several minutes greeting the friendly fauna (yes, I’m THAT person who talks to the animals), I realized that I forgot to set the “walking” timer on the Fitbit before I left home, so I wasn’t recording the exercise. I reached over to tap the device to start the timer. But instead, I put my arms back down because something clicked in my mind.
What if my Personal Best isn’t about chasing a step count on my fitness tracker, or a number on the scale (again, don’t tell my doctor I said that!), or all of the other bullshit that hustle culture—and that toxic cesspool known as SkinnyTok—tries to sell us?
What if, instead, my Personal Best is being present? What if it’s about connection and inspiration and passion and play and joy? What if it’s really about finally feeling comfortable again, not just in my body but in my soul, too?
Because lately I feel more “accomplished” after a day of strolling in nature and putting my best energy out into the world than I do after my Fitbit vibrates to indicate that I’ve reached an activity goal. Even though the device clocked that I was, indeed, exercising on Saturday and decided to track it anyway, my mission was…to not have a mission. Just to simply soak up the sunshine and the quiet beauty surrounding me.
