becoming a pedometrist

I am sort of addicted to keeping track.  I note the daily word count for every novel, also the decreasing chapter word counts as I edit.  Then there is Last.fm, where all my tunes are scrobbled if they are a digital file.  Right after the first of the year, Bob got me a pedometer through his work.  So for nearly a month, I've been carrying a small round disc in my pocket, keeping track of all my steps.

(When I remember to put it in my pocket...)

Now, with the butt in chair, I don't gather as many as I'd like.  An average day sees me between 3-4K.  A good day is over 7,000, and I've even hit 12K!  (I was wiped out the day after and just for reference, on days when Bob goes to the top of the mountain, he earns over 23K.)  But the last few days I've been forgetting to slip that little device in my pocket, yesterday realizing at ten a.m. that I was walking around, not getting credit for those steps!  I'm good today, already counting, well, I'm sitting right now, but I've nearly finished my Grape Nuts, and will be getting up for tea momentarily.  Even with yesterday's belated start, I still hit over 3,000 steps; I met Jay at the bridal shop to order her shoes for the wedding.  Then we went to lunch, well, she ate, I sat and chatted, having already chomped on my bagel at home.  To my surprise, I reached 3,400 steps by the end of the night, maybe it was shopping with Bob, pickings up his thyroid medicine, the mundane little errands that really add up when one doesn't peek.  And I admit, sometimes I do.

Like writing, tedious at times, when the story is stuck and a million other things are more interesting.  But little by little, paragraphs emerge, leading to scenes, leading to chapters.  Then suddenly a novel is formed, as if by magic.  I just went for tea; nine steps between the teapot and my chair, which is eighteen round trip, done at least, well, several times a day.  Our house is small, but after so many cups of tea, the loo calls, or the laundry or checking the mail or making the bed (which occurs mid-day usually); innocuous moments on my feet that by the end of the day round out to three or four thousand steps.  Now, if I walk, that's nearly 5K right there, but I've been lazy.  When spring hits (real Californian spring, not this faux winter but it feels like spring weather) I'll be hopefully back on the walking track.  Then those numbers will increase.

What's ironic is that for all my editing, I watch the numbers go DOWN.  I'm tightening a manuscript, why I like noting each day's work, visible proof of alterations.  Or maybe I'm just sort of crazy, keeping count of steps and words and songs.  We were scrobbling tunes before I found NaNoWriMo, maybe that's from where it sprung.  All I know is that I feel lousy when I plug in the iPod and tunes aren't accounted, or at eight in the morning, I note my left pocket has no pedometer in it!

As for counting words, so far I've not missed that, either in the addition or subtraction.  Songs and steps might be lost, but language is never missed.