Nothing quite like a gaggle of geese crossing the street to get your attention. And make you smile.
I’m blessed to live in a neighborhood where folks of all sizes, ages, and abilities—even the occasional wildlife—can be seen out and about. Given the benefits of getting our bodies moving, no wonder so many do their best to engage in some version of foot-powered activity, often on a daily basis.
The value of our choice to “step to it” can happen in a variety of ways. All it takes is a glance out the window next to my desk. Or, when I take my morning coffee to our back deck.
Toddlers who skip to keep up with parents . . .
Couples, hand in hand, steps in perfect harmony . . .
Young athletes in hi-tech gear, almost a blur as they dash by . . .
Moms and grandmas happy to stroll . . .
And then there’s maybe the best part of all . . .
The elderly gentleman in the long driveway. A month ago he made his way, day after day, a step at a time behind his walker. Upon reaching the street, he’d make a wide turn and return the same way.
A couple weeks later, he had graduated to a cane. These past days have been different. The same route. The same perseverance. No walker. No cane. A bit more spryness in his step.
The beauty of it all—each one of these people setting out in the way that works best for them.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, the treadmill awaits. Have increased my time from five minutes a day at the beginning of the year to 25 minutes a day the end of May. [Weekends are for rest and restoration.] Have also increased my speed. Not setting any records, that’s for sure. Then again, slow and steady makes a huge difference . . . any way you step it out.
How do I feel about taking steps?
Physical, or in my thoughts and actions?
What might be holding me back in either case?
