On New Year's Eve, my daughter left me a note and a gift on my bed.
She meant 12:00 pm, noon, the next day, which essentially gave me 24 hours to produce the 10,000 steps.
Ten thousand steps is a lot of steps. But my daughter's heart was in the right place. She wanted me to get some exercise over the holidays. As if shovelling the driveway upteen times wasn't enough, nor the trek we did on snowshoes a few days ago.
I took the step counter and clipped it onto my belt, and continued on with my day, cleaning, packing, and preparing for New Year's celebrations.
On New Years Eve, Lori and I went to the Black Sheep Inn, in Wakefield, with her sister and brother in law, and we met up with another couple. A band, The Digs, entertained us and we danced the night away.
I haven't danced in at least five years, but that night I danced like I had 10,000 steps to reach.
The next morning, I got up, clipped the counter back on, and went out to shoot my photos for yesterday's post, making sure that I walked as much as possible.
Approximately 24 hours after I had first started using the step counter, I had reached only 5,800 or so steps.
"I tried my best," I explained to Sarah, who handed back the counter when she saw the results.
"Keep going," she ordered. I kept the counter on me until we returned home, yesterday afternoon. Final count: 8,008.
I'm not one to make New Year's resolutions. Several years ago, perhaps more than 15 years ago, I made one last resolution: to never make another resolution again. That's not to say I don't set goals. I just don't tie any of these goals to the beginning of a new year.
But I did promise Sarah one thing: when I return to work next week, I'll go for a walk at every lunch break. I won't hit 10,000 steps in a day, but I'll take as many as I can.
She must be satisfied. I never found out what the "or else" consequence was.