Saturday, June 27, 2026

I am learning—and in real time—about the profound difference between “doing exercises” and “moving with purpose.”

I’ve tended to be a cerebral type—happiest sitting with a book, dreaming of someday writing one. But as I age, things are changing rapidly. Much of what I experience today surprises me. Like, if anyone had told me earlier in life that I would someday be averaging something like 18,000 steps a day, I’d have laughed. Yet over the past several weeks, to my great shock, I have been stepping up to that entirely new rhythm—on my few acres and beyond.

Essentially, it’s about discovering a fitness routine that actually works for me. This one wasn’t designed by a gym trainer, but instead, by entirely different forces. It’s driven by a deep affection for animals, a strong sense of duty, and a love of the great outdoors.

This odd journey started with my longtime wish to correct some habitual “slumping” while standing and walking. Traditional methods led me to a competent personal trainer who guided me through structured, scientifically sound exercises. I struggled to keep up, but frankly, staring at a wall and doing isolated repetitions felt like a hollow routine. It offered no motivation.

This summer finally arrived, and I began taking my dogs on outings at a nearby BLM. In this same beautiful weather, I also started working with my horse, Sunny, to recondition her for pulling a carriage. Quite by accident, the BLM trails and my own barn area have become daily highlights in my fitness evolution.

In the cool, early mornings, the dogs and I head out to a nearby Bureau of Land Management trail. Initially, we only walked half of the trail’s entire to-and-from distance, with my eyes glued to the dirt to dodge rocky protrusions. As my confidence grew, we started completing the trail’s full three-mile round trip. I was proud of us, and before long, I wished to push myself a bit further by adding a pair of lightweight hiking poles to our outings. Those poles caused an immediate shift.

Without the poles, walking had seemed too passive for my upper body—not offering enough to correct my old slumping habit. But adding poles changed the physics of my stride and gave me new hope. I could physically feel the planting of a pole and the pushing off. Those pulled my shoulder blades back, naturally opening my chest. The physical feedback encouraged me to work harder, with more hope of eventually standing taller without constantly having to force myself to “straighten up.” Those poles also give me the balance and confidence to work on lengthening my stride. Maybe they’re also helping to realign my spine.

The morning hikes are only part of the equation. Most afternoons, I’m out by the barn, lunging Sunny—asking her to trot steadily in circles for forty minutes. That’s not passive exercise; we’re a dynamic physical partnership. Managing twenty feet of lunging line requires a firm grip and forearm strength, and staying centered as Sunny circles me demands a stable, rotating core.

My horse doesn’t give a hoot about performance standards—she reads my body language perfectly. My “standing tall” in the center of our ring is a constant act of communication. If my attention wavers, Sunny senses it immediately, breaks her stride, and drops into a walk, forcing me to resume active participation.

Between those morning hikes with the dogs and the focused afternoon workouts with my horse, my daily step counts have skyrocketed. By the time the sun sets, my phone typically clocks me at 16,000 to 18,000 steps.

This is an incredible evolution. It’s teaching that my mind and body work best when they’re engaged together. Not long ago, the gym-style exercise routine felt like a chore, but now, there are early-morning hikes and focused afternoons with my animals that feel like life. These high-count steps will help me maintain health, manage weight, and focus on better posture. All these are vital gains—and best of all—achieved entirely on my own terms.

Instead of struggling to keep up with a rigid, repetitive exercise routine, it makes sense to consider trading the gym for what you really love. Step outside, find your purpose, and let the natural environment do the heavy lifting.

— Diana