Sitting yourself to death. Is it just me, or have you noticed an increasing number of blog posts about the dangers of prolonged sitting? The warnings would be easier to ignore if I wasn’t guilty of getting so caught up in my writing that sometimes I don’t even notice how long I’ve been sitting until I lose daylight. Even then, I’ve been known to carry on and type by the light of the laptop. When I finally cave in and stand up, my back cracks, my hips creak and I pinch a nerve in my neck reaching for the light switch.
That’s not good.
I need to be more mindful of my health if I want to keep it, so I’m making some changes.
One of the things I’m doing to get moving is to write standing up. Lucky for me, we have a bar between our kitchen and dining room that’s at the perfect height. It’s a remarkably comfortable writing position.
I’m also spending more time at our local gym, though I must say, motivating myself to get there is an issue, and I’ve learned that dressing for the gym doesn’t necessarily equate to making it to the gym.
Something that doesn’t require much motivation, is taking long walks. We have a number of great trails on the island and Molly is only too happy to accompany me as long as the rain isn’t torrential and the winds aren’t howling (okay, so it’s me who doesn’t like being out in the rain and wind. Those are gym days . . . sometimes).
Walking has the added bonus of loosening stubborn writing knots. On today’s walk, for example, I was mulling over of a new story idea I’ve been teasing out. I’d been having trouble with the motivation for one of the characters. Their motivation is pivotal and without it, the story falls apart. By the time I got back to the trailhead, the motivation I’d been seeking, along with a cascading shower of supporting ideas, dropped out of the ether.
The moment I got home, I drafted a synopsis for a completely new book idea. Of course, I was sitting on my butt while I typed it, but at least I’d been out for a walk.
How do you get your butt out of your chair?
The winds are howling again today, which means our Internet is out, the power is threatening to call it quits, and the rain is coming at us sideways. I’m not complaining; stormy days without the Internet are perfect for distraction-free writing. Well…if you don’t count fir cones pelting down on the steel roof as distractions.
Speaking of which, Jackson’s calling, so I must go before we really do lose power. The storm outside isn’t letting up. Each time I look up from the keyboard, another seagull soars past. It looks like they’re playing in the wind, riding it like a roller coaster. At times they hang mid-air as they spread their wings into the force of it. Wish I could fly like that.
Christmas and Odds & Sods. Miraculously, five days before Christmas, I find myself in the position of having some free time. Not sure how that happened. Somehow the parcels got wrapped, mailed, bagged, and tagged; the vacuum and dust mitt performed a slap and dash; the decorations made it out of the crawl space; and the meals planned themselves.
