tracking joy
walk one:
I decide on a long walk, Fitbit and RunKeeper app tracking my every step. Returning home 90 minutes later, I swipe my phone to turn off the app discovering it logged 3 seconds.
This isn’t the first time.
Ugh.
walk two:
A stroll through our neighborhood park listening to a podcast and these words begin to take residence in my mind:
“Movement is joy and movement isn’t just about weight loss.”
Kelly McConigal
walk three:
Another morning of laps around the park. Upon completing my final oval, I glance across the sunken rose garden and there is a woman dancing to music through her headphones,
a private silent disco. I watch in awe of her movement and uninhibited joy.
In the days following these three different walks, I begin to look deeper into my relationship with exercise and movement. I wonder over the decade upon decade of adulthood, how had movement and exercise shifted from being joyful to predominately about body management?
Had I turned moving my body into an obligation and measurable commodity?
I can be immersed in the beauty of my surroundings during walks yet still be anchored to a black band circling my wrist.
Had I heard society’s subtle whisper that morphed into my own mantra to “enjoy the outdoors but make sure it counts”?
I know many people, unable to move their bodies in the way they would desire or have been accustomed, due to prolonged injury, infirmity, or other reasons. It grieves me how often I fail to treat my abilities as a gift.
Three walks containing tracking malfunctioning, wise words, and witnessing unabashed joy have dented my mindset for the good.
My walks have been full of purpose, data, and tethered to devices.
The woman who danced was free, uninhibited, and aligned to the beats of nature and music. She embodied the joy of movement.
I reflect on my decades of the past, a frenzy of unlimited Jazzercise passes, “feel the burn” exercise videos, and training to walk half and full marathons.
Is it possible to rewire my thinking and eliminate the need to measure progress?
Tools, no matter how beneficial, are not the final authority. As our lives begin to expand in safety, I endeavor to walk (no pun intended) into a slower, more intentional life. I hope to find a more level approach to honoring what my body needs from a place of joy, relinquishing all my burdensome rules.
Activity doesn’t need to lead to being compressed by busyness. Movement can be a walk through the park, soaping up dishes, stirring soup, or wiping a child’s tears away. Each one has the power to create a collective of joy within our days if we took a breath and loosened our grip.
One day last week, I played around with my RunKeeper app and discovered four notifications. I hadn’t seen this feature before and was curious about its meaning. Once opened, four entries each contained the identical message:
Pocket Tracker- We noticed an entry was not entered and we have added it to your record.
What if it wasn’t necessary to worry if every step was tracked and credited to my account?
What if I tracked joy more often than miles?
What would happen if some days my wrists and hands were free and a lighter soul was my checkmark?
What if I simply moved for the joy of it?
What if I became a joy tracker?
May we move with joy set before our eyes and silence the scorekeeper.
