Am I a humbug here?
It feels like Thanksgiving carries with it all of the holiday stress yet offers none of the calming carols or aromatherapeutic scent of pine. What gives? I spent all weekend and most of last night getting our little apartment ready to host my in-laws for a few days before we all travel together to join up with the Mother Ship (Literally, my mom’s house.) I was squeezing grocery shopping in between loads of laundry, cleaning tasks were wedged in and around other cleaning tasks, and oh yeah by the way I still have to be at work this week.
What I did NOT manage to squeeze in, wedge in, or allocate for was my weekly 8-mile run or my weekly bike ride. I even got invited on a bike ride, a new route I’ve been dying to try, but I backed out at the last minute. Granted, that was due in no small part to the fact that the ride was set for early Sunday morning, and I was out late Saturday night self-medicating to depress my cleaning anxiety. But still. This is really not the time of year to be slacking on workouts, and now I’m stuck wondering:
Am I already behind this season?
My daily runs average about 350 calories burned. I have to believe that I’m hitting at LEAST that just managing my 5-page Holiday To Do List. I mean, it’s not just the cleaning here. You might think the effects of a throat-burningly delicious contact high found while standing over a bathtub filled with bleach solution would be enough to make me find the cheer in toothbrush scrubbing blackened tile grout. It wasn’t. I mean yeah, the cleaning is a big part of it. But there’s also the decorating. And the planning. And, if you are traveling there’s the packing to account for all the possible clothing options one may need (“So are we doing Thanksgiving casually dressy this year or dressy-cash as usual?“). Oh man, someone call up a pumpkin-tini and an Excel spreadsheet before I have a nervous breakdown.
So I decided to do a little checking. And I’m officially very THANKFUL to report that my hyperactive, insane, control-freaky approach to The Holiday To Do List may well cover my momentary fitness lapses this season. Check it out (and this is just this weekend):
Housework (180 minutes) = 594 Calories (Seriously, though, two tubs including grout, I’m thinking this is a low-ball estimate.)
Mopping (30 minutes) = 153 Calories
Washing Dishes (45 minutes) = 115 Calories
Grocery Shopping (90 minutes) = 90 Calories (Again, fails to account for Heisman-winning moves weaving between overloaded grocery carts piloted by whiney out-of-school tweens whose mothers are busy reaming out the sophomoric stock boy for not being able to find corn meal. I’m sure this is closer to 150.)
Unloading Groceries (30 minutes) = 90 Calories
Packing Suitcase (30 minutes) = 72 Calories
Moving forward, I’m going to be satisfied obsessing over so many other details in an obsess-worthy season. I will not dwell on my missed runs or on my rising mile times. I am thankful for each of those calories burned, be they burned out on the running trail or chasing dust-bunnies under an unmade bed. I will look on workouts not just as a spreadsheet cell to strike through, but a therapeutic release from The Holidays and return to Normalcy.
Be calm. Be Blobless. Be thankful.