A Cariad Life

When we first moved to Bainbridge Island in 2013, my job for the first seven years of our time there was located in Kent, Washington. It was an hour and a half commute in the morning and a two hour commute in the evening, with both trips including a 30 minute ferry ride that I would walk onto each morning and evening. Once I got off the ferry on the Seattle side, I would walk three blocks to my car that I kept parked there, and then I would do the three block walk again in the evening to get to the ferry.

I remember when I first started the commute how awestruck I was by my fellow commuters and how fast they could walk off the boat and the city blocks ahead. In the beginning, when I tried to keep their pace, I found I was out of breath and sweaty (nevermind that I refused to give up my heels even in the rain, when they were wearing waterproof Tevas and Goretex). I didn’t particularly enjoy the walk and found that I just gritted my way through it, particularly when it was wet and windy. Interesting thing though–as I kept commuting, I got faster on that walk; pretty soon, I could keep up with most of them and not break a sweat. I began to notice the other commuters, and one particular woman who would lightly stroke the leaves of a tree we would walk by. For her, the walk was functional, but it also included an appreciation of her surroundings.

Even back then with the extra walking as part of my commute and working all day, I would hit about 10,000 steps a day. Now, with my new job that largely keeps me at home during the day, I hit about 18,000 steps and climb an average 59 flights of stairs every day according to my Apple watch. Each day, I smash my move and exercise goals without scheduling exercise. How do I get that many steps? Simple…my stairs!

Our stairwell is the center of our house and its curved bannister, climbing from the ground level to the fourth level (or ground floor to 3rd floor), is the backbone. When the previous owners bought this maison 14 years ago, they spent considerable time restoring the French architectural features. None more clearly showcases those efforts than the stairwell–it’s the first thing guests see as they walk into the vestibule. Every week, guests who understand the craftsmanship of the spindles and the curved bannister, which seemingly appears to be one continuous piece of wood for four stories, stand beside it and stroke it appreciatively. They share with their colleagues or loved ones traveling with them the art of this woodwork–extending to us a high level of praise and respect for preserving this piece of art.

It is beautiful, and I too, love to look at it from my kitchen when I am having my morning coffee. I love the dark, rich tones of the wood and the smooth, aged finish of each step–thinking how many people have climbed these stairs in the last 183 years. The stairwell is also functional–we and all of our guests must climb 21 steps to get to their rooms on the second level. Darrell often carries their bags up and down the stairs during check in and check out. The next level, where our living quarters are located, is another 18 steps up. It is where we carry much of our laundry to wash, hang to dry and then iron. It is also where our coats are stored, along with our shoes and clothes. This means that if we are downstairs and need to run to the store, that is 39 steps up and 39 down to get ourselves ready and out the door. Finally, our attic is another 18 steps up and is used for storage.

At first, I would climb the stairs and be a bit out of breath–my bum and legs burning with the climb. But just like my days commuting and walking the three blocks to my car from the ferry, I’ve gotten used to it. I am not out of breath anymore and my legs are stronger than ever. It’s not to stay I don’t try to conserve my energy and carry several items to the third level at one time. It has, however, become just part of how I work and live, as well as a beautiful piece of art I interact with regularly.

So often in my life, I thought I had to make these significant and big changes to my diet and exercise routine to stay fit. I’ve done juice diets, keto, bullet coffee, and intermittent fasting–counting every calorie (how boring and exhausting!) I’ve committed to running and working in long walks/hikes at least 3-4 days a week. It was another task, a chore that I gritted through. It’s not to say those things don’t have their place, but I certainly prefer this way of life. I eat good food, and if I want a treat (pain aux raisin!) I will have it (in moderation), and I move all day, every day. At the end of the day, I am tired and sleep well. I feel good and healthy and my clothes fit.

I mentioned a few posts ago that I am learning the art of living and how our day to day life, just like my stairs, can have beauty and function. Our lives provide us with opportunities to experience beauty while we function, whether it is a walk on a morning commute and admiring the beautiful trees or me climbing my restored antique stairs. These opportunities can be used to develop a deep appreciation of what we have and what our bodies can do, at least for now. I fully recognize there will be a day when I may not be able to climb those stairs so easily–for now, I will enjoy it.