Today is the last day of 100 Days of Walking, the movement I started on a whim five years ago after Christmas. Lying on my couch like The Big Lebowski’s stunt double, I realized that something was needed to restore balance to the sloth-like lifestyle I’d enthusiastically embraced during the festive season. But I knew, because I’d tried and failed before at things like boot camps, that I needed something sustainable, something that I could possibly see myself doing six months from now, and something that wasn’t like that was hard. My inner sloth is real.
Anyway, it’s been another year and I know once again that I’ve reaped all sorts of benefits, both physical and mental. (Walking is good for almost everything from your mental health to your heart, lungs and bone strength, with a host of other bonuses like better sleep, muscle tone, balance and even fertility!)
But that’s not really what I want to talk about. The benefits of walking are real — but there’s something else I’ve realized this year more than any other year. So much can change in just 100 days.
Because it’s not just a walking program – and that’s obvious in some ways, but not in other ways – it’s also time marking.
In 2020, on day 24, I heard for the first time Time about a new coronavirus spreading rapidly in Wuhan, China. On day 60, the first case of Covid-19 was there. By day 77, I had already caught it, as had my daughter. War broke out in Ukraine on day 55 of that year. On the 80th day, the first Ukrainian refugee child came to my youngest son’s class. These things were all but unthinkable on day one – but within those days, literally everything had changed radically. And it made me see things a little differently.
Normally we don’t notice the passage of time. It is a long, continuous stream that merges into itself. It’s often hard to remember exactly when something happened or how incremental changes crept up on us. But 100 days is a snapshot. And I now realize that the situation at the beginning is disproportionate to that at the end – even if 100 days is not a very long time.
And I suppose what I’ve learned from that is that permanence is an illusion and security and stability are comforting myths. Yes, there’s a chance things will stay the same over a period of time, but that’s all — a chance.
So much in our lives is out of our control. Unforeseen events can overwhelm us and dictate our course. You only have one life and for someone reading this there may not even be 100 days left of it. Make every day count, my friends.
A second opinion
Owning a dog is a bit like parenting—everyone expresses their allegations differently. And in the same way, I remember biting my tongue at the parents who, without a word of correction, let their little darlings kick and yell at other children – I once mentioned mildly to a mother that she might be able to stop her son from doing so to smack the Bejaysus out of one of my kids, and she told me, “He needs to be allowed to express himself”—there are dog owners who don’t seem to feel responsible for their dog’s training or behavior.
I say this against the background that I was recently almost attacked by a dog on a leash whose owner, instead of stemming the barking dog, was chatting happily with friends while her dog barked and growled at all passers-by. I don’t blame the poor dog; he didn’t know any better. But I blame the owner.
Dogs are everywhere post-pandemic. Where I live you can’t move if you find yourself tangled like an unfortunate lappler in packs of huskies. Most people are good with their dogs, picking up their poo and giving them good doggy manners; Other people are the reason dogs need a license. don’t be that guy
