Skip to main content

That's N.E.A.T.

  Non. Exercise. Activity. Thermogenesis.

That's my kind of health and weight maintenance plan.

Essentially it means that you burn calories throughout the day just by puttering around.  

And I am the Queen of that! 

By simply getting up off the couch and straightening this, cleaning that, dusting the other, emptying the cat litter, feeding the bird, watering the plants, making the bed, toasting some bread, pouring a coffee, rearranging the pantry, reorganizing the office, decluttering the linen closet, vacuuming the living room, sweeping the floors, filling the outside bird feeder, pulling some weeds, etc.  

I could go on and on.  

I am sure you get the idea.

By doing all of these things, we are keeping our metabolism revved up.  We are burning calories.  We are avoiding the gym.  Yay!

We no longer have to get hot and sweaty in a spin class.  We can just keep our homes and gardens clean and tidy.  

Who knew?  

Perhaps our ancestors did.  

It was a hard, physical life in the pre-technology age, and I am sure they were all kinds of fit just trying to survive.

Don't get me wrong.  

I still go for long walks in the fresh air.  

And I do sit-ups and pushups and the dreaded Plank and some yoga stretches on a regular basis too.

But now, it seems, puttering around the house counts as a way to keep fit and healthy also.  

And I am so happy there is actually a scientific name for it:  N.E.A.T.

And I will happily putter my way to keeping healthy!


Popular posts from this blog

The Best Kept Secret

  When I was first hired by CKVR-TV as an anchor and reporter back in 1993, I was living in a small apartment in Richmond Hill. I was happy to commute back and forth in my little Honda Civic, up and down Highway 400. There was no way I was moving up to Barrie. That was farm country. Where the rubes lived. It even had a Co-op store, where country bumpkins bought their farm feed and supplies. The only culture that city had was agriculture. Imagine! I was better than that! I had been born and raised in the thriving metropolis of Oakville, then we moved to Brampton when I was a teenager.   I even lived in Montreal for several years while in my roaring twenties, for goodness sake!  La creme de la creme of culture and sophistication! Well, after three long years of driving up and down that Highway 400, surviving snow storms and other harrowing highway experiences, I succumbed. In 1996, I moved up. Literally and figuratively. And I have, sinc...

Hostage Taking

 Dear Mrs. Raccoon; I would like my garden back please. I know you are raising your five adorable babies in the window well under our deck. I know you need a safe space to do so, and thought that would be suitable. Well, you have worn out your welcome. I am sure they are big enough to move along to a suitable forest. I know one just down the street. I realize they are still nursing on you. I can see you all through our basement window. A clear view of your nursery. And yes, your babies are cute beyond reason. Snuggly and cuddly and who wouldn't want to just pick them up and kiss them to death. It is you, Mrs. Raccoon, who has put the fear of god into me. I am afraid of you, to be quite frank. Ever since that afternoon last week when I was enjoying a snack out on the back deck. I saw you out the corner of my eye, as you came up onto the deck and wanted some of that snack! Thankfully I had a broom handy - just in case - and was able to wave you away. ...

Two Cents

 Another letter came in the mail the other day. Another notification from the TD Bank regarding my father's estate. He had passed away more than two years ago, and yet these letters still arrive in the mail. After having closed everything out, completed all the required tasks of his estate, carrying out all the executrix duties that I was appointed with, this one last account keeps on keeping on. Every few months I am notified by this letter that there are $.02 cents left remaining in this RRIF account. An account that I know that I closed down and dispersed. An account that should have long ago been shuttered and done away with. But no. There it is. A constant reminder that my dad has passed away, and that there are $.02 cents left remaining in this particular RRIF account. I have tried calling and emailing the bank, to no avail. This notice persists on being mailed and delivered. And so I have come to think of it as my dad's two cents. He is still gi...