Day 207: The Pedometer Diaries.

Don't they look healthy? Despite a diet high in fat and sugar, the Amish have a 4% obesity rate (compared with 31% in the regular U.S. population). Their secret? An average 16,000 steps per day. The average American office worker, by comparison, takes just 2,500 steps per day.

Steps 0-94: I wake up at 7:03 a.m. and decide that today is the day - I'm finally going to remember to wear the pedometer George gave me and see how many steps I take in a day. Why? Well, according to Weight Watchers, "women who consistently clock 10,000 or more steps per day have lower percentages of body fat, body mass indexes (BMI) and waist-to-hip circumferences." Cool. I'm all for a lower waist-to-hip circumference.

Steps 95-562: After basic morning stuff, it's time to walk the dogs. The fact that I can't find my keys causes me to spend 15 minutes searching the house. I am secretly pleased because I'm logging so many extra steps. I finally arrive at the park and get started.

Steps 563-3,591: A 3,027-step walk? Oh yeah, baby. Now we're talking. As I walk, I think about why, if the Greek root word "Ped" clearly means "foot (pedestrian, pedal, pedometer), the word "pedophile" exists.

Steps 3,592-3,610: Since these 18 steps accumulate while I'm driving to the market after the park, I am now aware there is a margin of error to consider.

Steps 3,611-4,701: My oblivious side serves me well as I must criss-cross the supermarket several times in order to get everything on my list. I wish I could say I was trying to log more steps, but I really am that scatterbrained at the store.

Steps 4,702-4,911: Once home, I adjust the outside sprinklers, put groceries away, feed the dogs and make coffee. I feel there should be more steps involved, as I have gotten a lot accomplished.

Steps 4,912-5,807: I prepare breakfast, make a few changes to the manuscript, and watch a stupid movie on HBO in the background (National Treasure, starring Nicholas Cage and some hot blonde chick who keeps me from turning it off. Uhm, I've never seen or read The Davinci Code, and I still know this thing's a ripoff.). Sprinklers are moved, dogs are played with, general walking around the house occurs.

Steps 5,808-6,133: My Ex picks me up to go see a movie. After parking and picking up our tickets, we head over for a quick pre-movie stop at Amoeba Music.

Steps 6,134-7,701: Amoeba is a big store, and I walk around looking at all the things I can't afford. I finally wind up grabbing the first season of The Larry Sanders Show for a very reasonable $19.99 (Hey now!!) before heading back to the theater and taking our seats.

Steps 7,702-8,173: I'm tempted to stand up and walk in place to keep my steps going, but the movie - a Seattle high school girl's basketball documentary called Heart of the Game - is so good I forget all about my pedometer. Seriously. Go see this movie.

Steps 8,174-8,740: My Ex and I stop at Trader Joe's (another market) on the way home from the movie. Worried that 10,000 steps is out of reach, I'm tempted to make several laps around the store, but I restrain myself.

Steps 8,741-10,124: A stroke of good fortune befalls me when, as I approach my house, I see both a smashed toilet in the gutter (five streets away) and a cordoned-off area populated by five police cars (one street over). I hurry inside, put the groceries away, grab my camera, and have the Ex drop me back off at the toilet. After taking pictures there, I walk to the crime scene and find out they're looking for a hand grenade that was reported to be in the neighborhood. They're still looking for it as I head home. I'm careful to watch where I step.




Steps 10,125-10,797: More sprinkler moving, more throwing the frisbee for Denny, more general cleaning up and walking around. I read my book for a little while (Sarah Vowell's The Partly Cloudy Patriot, which I've only just begun), but this bothers me because I know the pedometer is stagnant. I can't focus. This period is ultimately marred by the realization that the pedometer is no longer hooked into my pocket. Crap! I search the house, extremely annoyed that Lord knows how many steps aren't counting/haven't counted, and finally find it beside my desk chair. The Lost Steps are a blow.

Steps 10,798-11,843: After making dinner (grilled swordfish with homemade mango salsa - it was so good the other night I felt the need to do it again), I putter around on the computer. Turns out that while the Latin term "paed" used to mean child, nowadays, "Ped" can be used either way. I can't tell you how wrong I think this is. I play with the dogs and then work on the blog while Larry Sanders plays. Now that I know the first season only has 13 episodes, the price doesn't seem so nice. I'm vaguely wishing I'd bought the first season of The Mary Tyler Moore Show instead ($19.99 for 24 episodes).

Steps 11,844-12,138: When 10:09 p.m. arrives, I decide to call it a day. There will be more steps before I lay my head down, but I want to get finish the blog and get a good night's sleep. I am sad that I am not quite Amish, but happy I topped 10,000.

I will be able to sleep tonight.