I think I sit too much. This is the epiphany I arrived at after a few months of wearing a Garmin Vivoactive, the running watch that happens to count steps and remind you to feel guilty whenever you don’t move.
What I noticed over time from the data was that after a run of 6 miles or more, I tended to sit around for most of the day. On days I didn’t run, I walked more. Aside from once-weekly long run days, most days my total number of steps was about the same whether I ran or not. Not cool.
There must be too many places to sit in my house. After all, if I wanted to eat better, I would remove unhealthy temptations from my pantry. So it follows that if I want to move more, then my house should not be filled with places to sit. Thus the inventory of seating options began.
Awareness is not always an easy thing to possess. After a household scan, I counted 33 chairs, benches, and stools. Add in the outdoor spaces and that number soared to 44. This is not including couches. I have 7 of those. Note: we are a family of 4. I must curl up into a fetal position now, having so far yet to go on the minimalism practice.
Ok, I’m back. Feeling overwhelmed, I decided to focus on a single positive action. I would move my laptop to a taller table, remove the chair, and enjoy my new standing desk. Result of experiment: I went two full weeks without writing a blog post and my email inbox swelled into total anarchy. I mean, why stand at the computer, when my iPad is next to this comfy sofa? And besides, I need to stay current on my YouTube subscriptions. Why does my human brain default to lazy?
A few nights ago during dinner, our family got on the topic of designing our ideal room. Turns out, my ideal room has glass walls (to enjoy the stellar view), a lap pool, bike trainer, treadmill, yoga mat, smoothie & green tea bar, and an adjacent sunny courtyard filled with an organic produce garden and waterfall.
Heck, if the location of said room was temperate enough, I may not even need the indoor sports equipment, or the garden courtyard. So maybe what I’m realistically envisioning is a tent on a tropical island. Either way, no chairs are necessary, because of course, I would be sipping my green tea under the waterfall, or happily sitting on a rock.
Who even decided that a house should be filled with chairs, and why did everyone else follow along? At some point in my life, my focus obviously turned to chair accumulation, and I’m not sure I even noticed at the time. Now I must focus on shaping my environment to reduce opportunistic sitting, since clearly my brain and body default to mush when I am presented with leisure options.
I wonder what I should do with the extra 40 chairs?