On Friday, my iPhone imploded and because it’s issued through work, I had to wait until Monday to find out if it could be brought back to life. My last communication with IT involved the words “rare” and “corrupt.” I developed a nervous twitch within seconds.
For one whole weekend — in I don’t know how many years — I would not have a mobile device. No texting. No calls (We don’t have a land line). No random email checking. No Facebook or Twitter. No calorie counting via MyFitnessPal. Yes, yes, I know I could do all these things using my computer, but that’s just not how I do it anymore. Not how we do it anymore. Am I right?
People, I’m here to tell you I survived. I made it through, but you might not like what I’m about to say it.
I want to put the mobile device away a whole lot more. What became very clear very quickly is how addicted I am to that thing.
Rather than checking in about work or social media, my girls had my undivided attention. When our family ran errands Saturday, I looked out the window as we drove through our lovely river town. Sounds simple, right? Frankly, it’s something I don’t find myself doing too much of these days.
We have these teeny-tiny super computers at our fingertips that keep us connected to people and their places and their thoughts and their meals. All. The. Time. We quickly scan the local and world news, check the weather, order dinner, edit a photo or video — all while riding along to do the next errand.
What I now realize is that I’m not totally present anymore. And that’s a shame. My kids are competing for my attention constantly. They do this all while watching, learning, mimicing me.
On Sunday, I went for a 4-mile run in my neighborhood. From the moment she saw me pull my hair into a ponytail, my 2-year-old said she wanted to run with me. I opened the door to go and she frantically ran to get her shoes. I promised that as soon I got back she and I would run. Just put your shoes on and wait for Mommy to come back. I’ll be right back.
The moment I returned, she was ready to go. Her shoes were on — had been on since I told her do so. And big sis wanted to come, too. I bundled them up and we ran down the street together, taking little steps so as not to get too far ahead of the 2-year-old. We turned around and ran back uphill to the house. My little one got winded and reached out her hand to mine to hold while she panted her way into the driveway, smiling the entire time.
I like to think I would have had that moment even if my iPhone had been working. But I also wonder, would I have gotten home, stopped whatever app I was using to log my run, started comparing previous runs, then – out of habit – begun checking email and letting iDistractions take over?
I’m glad I got to have that moment with both my girls. I’m glad they want to run with me. I’m glad they see me running, being active, and wanting to do the same. There’s no app for that.
I promise to continue the trend of being present more and not letting my gadgets distract me from my right here, right now.
P.S. Running log is below. I hope you’re easing into the Fab Ab Challenge. I think those two-minute planks at the end of the month will be tough. Also, I’m proud to say that I fought the urge to order pizza tonight, even when we discovered the steaks we were planning to cook were bad.