A broken ring fixes my attitude

Last Saturday, at about 9:30 pm, and with the curfew kicking in at 10, I realised that I was a long way from closing the move ring on my Apple Watch. We had just had a lovely evening out at friends, and they had kindly driven us home, so that scotched the idea of walking home. Off I went, haring round the neighbourhood, and when I got home there was still an annoying gap in the ring. WTF, I thought, and proceeded to do some jumping jacks. Then running on the spot. Then some more jumping jacks, and all the while The Main Squeeze looking at me with benevolent patience and also incredulity.

Still no little shower of fireworks. Sod it, I thought, I’m going to bed.

I felt completely useless. Every day for 124 days, since day one, in fact, I had closed all three rings. And now I had failed.

Then I thought about the day just past. We had a gorgeous walk on a nearby beach, which didn’t register as a movement or a workout because we were ambling quietly along the strand. I’d had a great nap in the afternoon, the first in more than a month, and it had been delicious and deep and refreshing. And there had been that fine supper with good friends. A super day.

So I hadn’t closed my rings.

So what?

And I went to sleep in a much better frame of mind.