That might not seem noteworthy as I am a member of a way of life that has been known to drive from the bedroom to kitchen. An explanation is therefore in order.

Five years ago, I determined a bicycle would help in my unrelenting quest to lose "those last 10 pounds." I purchased a bright green, shiny, "commuter bike:" just the ticket for errands, short trips — and looking way-righteously cool. With inner child at full throttle, I straddled my 24-speed cycle with headlight, rear LED, bike rack, and "computer" — which, in reality, is a "speedometer on steroids" that cycling folks refer to as a "computer." (Who am I to argue?) Strapping on matching green helmet and bike gloves, I tightened my backpack, adjusted my side mirror, and pedaled away — simply to collapse, exhausted, a mile from home. Remind me again whose bright idea this was.

Each subsequent pedaling opportunity was overruled by geographic or meteorological concerns. In Humboldt County, if one excludes riding in hills, wind, or rain, let's face it; you stay home.

So, after much soul searching (and two more pounds), I ventured into the asphalt wilds for one brief ride. A few blocks one day, more on another, soon I'm across town. Wind? Gear down. Hills? Stand up. For rainy days, I bought yellow raingear (added bonus: look like a banana slug on wheels). Before one could utter, "derailleur," most short outings were via bicycle; soon becoming second nature. Lance Armstrong's record is safe — but big-wheeled, plastic trikes quite often eat my dust.

Back to today: When my faithful two-wheel steed broke, I was disoriented. I had an appointment and no way to get there — until I remembered I still possess a car. From inventing excuses to drive, to forgetting I even owned an auto — there's your lightning bolt moment.

Isn't that the way it is with habits? They begin so small, initially difficult, then awkward, then you. Actions requiring so much energy at their onset evolve into activities unnoticed, as invisible as the thoughts that guide them. One moment. One month. One lifetime, it all blends. Go slowly; just keep moving. You'll get there.

Five things to do to add activity into your life

1) Do anything!

Don’t get caught up in the belief that it has to be something “big.” ANY activity helps. Remember that small steps done regularly will do more for you than large steps done intermittently. In other words, it is better to walk a block and really do it than it is to plan to run a mile and not.

2) Find excuses to be more active.

Park at the far end of the parking lot. When you’re frustrated at work or your computer crashes, don’t head to the refrigerator or coffee room, take a walk around the building. Play with your children. If you look for ways to move, you’ll find them.

3) Set small goals.

Don’t compare yourself to others who have been doing it longer, compare yourself to yourself. Look at where you started; not how far you have to go. If you’re only doing seven minutes of activity now -- but you weren’t doing any, congratulations! That’s improvement! You’re on your way. Add one minute each day - or even each week. Soon, you’ll be surprised by the changes.

4) Find a buddy.

Get someone else who will walk with you. It makes it more enjoyable and it helps hold you accountable.

5) Make it as easy as possible on yourself.

If you’re just getting started, don’t try and make it elaborate. All you need are a good pair of shoes and some warm clothes. Don’t be put off by fancy cross-trainers, leotards, or accoutrements. If you wait to get it all together, you’ll never start.

About the Author
Scott "Q" Marcus is a THINspirational speaker and author. Since losing 70 pounds more than 12 years go, he conducts speeches, workshops, and presentations throughout the country. He can be reached at scottq@scottqmarcus.com or (707) 442-6243. His blog is available at scottq.blogspot.com and his Website is TheEatingCycle.com.