We have just started the third week of the 10,000 Step Challenge here at the Southern Standard and I’m exhausted.
I woke up Friday morning and every fiber of my being said, “Do not go for a walk this morning!” I pushed through that and took a walk, racking up 9,400 steps. I did it because Thursday marked the halfway point of the month-long competition and Friday marked the second half.
My goal has been to complete 500,000 steps during the month. As of Thursday night, I have 250,000 steps. However, editor James Clark is closer to 300,000 steps. He’s besting me.
Yes, I’m in competition with my boss. While most of you might be tempted to let your boss win, I am not. I’m trying really hard to give him a run – pun intended – for his money. He wouldn't want it any other way. He’s competitive too.
We’re urging each other to keep going – almost to the point of an unhealthy relationship. One of us will wind up injured. It’s probably going to be me. During the last competition, I destroyed my arches. Months after the competition ended, I was still hurting and having to wear arch supports.
James, who was running in the dark in the parking lot of the Civic Center, hit a speed bump, tripped and fell during the last competition. There’s all kinds of irony in that. So, I guess we could both end up with an injury before this is over. I won the first time, though. If he wins this time, I think I can live with it.
I had someone comment to me that keeping an eye on steps taken can be addictive. I completely agree. However, in this world filled with excess everything, I’m OK if my addiction (area of excess) is walking and not something unhealthy.
Addiction is the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity. I found these seven signs of an addition: reverting back, withdrawal, denial, secrecy, change of interests, increased tolerance, and obsessiveness.
While my walking doesn’t fit into all those categories, it does fit into some: withdrawal, for one. If I go a day without walking, I don’t feel good about it. Actually, I feel terrible. I get antsy. I need to walk.
As a result of a competition, I’m achy all over and have been for the last two weeks. I’m feeling a lot more toned. As I’m writing this on Friday, I can’t remember being this toned the first time I endured through this competition. However, it was almost two years ago and I was 20 pounds heavier. That realization made me very happy. Go me!
Update from last week’s column: the name of the Main Street Live band that I could not remember was “Leroy Troy and the Tennessee Mafia Jug Band.” A thank you to Jeff Barnes who knew what I did not. He won a free mention in my column.
Standard reporter Lisa Hobbs can be reached at 473-2191.