About four months ago I moved back to Seattle, where I use a car almost daily, from New York City, where I was car-less for eight years. After eight years of daily, crowded and musty subway commuting, I have to admit that I was anxious to leave that all behind. And I did. I left it all on my behind, which has swollen eight pounds (one for every year I lived in the city) in just four months. Sure, my weight has always fluctuated. But this, two pounds a month for four months straight, all gain no loss—I don’t think you can call that fluctuation. There’s a pretty clear pattern here that I’m not a big fan of.

Let me say now that I LOVE Seattle—maybe even more than I love New York. With it’s ample green spaces, impressive compost and recycling program, fresh air and culture of conscious consumerism, I’ve had many of moments of relief upon finding the issues I care so deeply about, so deeply ingrained here. But when compared with Manhattan, Seattle’s public transportation leaves a lot to be missed. In New York, my commute to work was usually around forty minutes, door to door. A five-minute walk away from my apartment took me to the subway station, a twenty ride took me to Times Square, and a fifteen minute walk (well, really most often a ten minute power walk, since I was always late) had me at work. On the way home, I would usually pick up kitty litter and/or food and groceries for dinner, and haul those over my shoulder, along with my laptop and whatever else I was equipped with for the day. And I would do all that in heels!

I ended up back in Seattle with minor back problems, but high in energy and stamina, and looking forward to sitting on my butt with my purchases riding behind me in the backseat. Four months later, I’m eight pounds heavier and winded at the top of a flight of stairs—just what I wanted.

So, today was fantastic for me. I work from home in a neighborhood with lots of nearby stores, restaurants and even a farmers' market, which makes it even more shameful that I use my car so often. I had to run to the bank this morning, which is a ten-minute drive away. Guess what. It’s also a twenty-minute walk. And for a change, the sun was shining and it was beautiful day. I lost twenty minutes in transportation time, but I gained so much in exchange. I got my heart rate up, for maybe the first time this week, I had much needed time to think, and I felt more like I was a part of the world than I do when behind the wheel. Other walkers kept smiling at me! Go figure, but they seemed pretty happy. On the way home I even stopped at the farmers market for produce. When I’m driving I often pass it because there isn’t anywhere to park.

It started raining again last night, which would usually keep me and Greg inside in front of the TV watching a movie. We still watched a movie last night, but we walked to the theater in the rain. Admittedly, this was Greg’s idea, since he has always enjoyed walking in rain, which I always thought was weird. But after last night, I think I get it. I don’t want to sound sentimental, but I felt kinda like a kid, all giddy, fresh and energetic. And it occurred to me that, as a kid, before nice clothes, obligations and hairdos, rain never kept me inside before. And it never made being outside less fun.

And probably the most telling observation from yesterday was that when we got home, instead of surfing the net or turning on the TV, we crawled into bed and passed out—genuinely, physically tired.