Who Do You Envy? (Daily Prompt: Mon. Dec. 12, 2022)

Envy materializes when one wants something somebody else has, while jealousy is the feeling that a relationship is being threatened

Brene Brown

I imagine most people will answer today’s prompt by saying they envy those who are famous and/or wealthy, who have perfect romantic relationships and/or myriad lifelong friendships, whose children are well behaved and/or uber-successful, who live in giant McMansions with live-in household staff, who are thin and/or beautiful or handsome, who don’t need to work or have a job that satisfies them and pays well … You get the picture. Most people envy those who have something “more” than what they have and are happier (or appear so) all around.

Not me. I have “enough”. I don’t need fame or fortune, my relationship with my husband is great, I have several friends I can depend on in a pinch, my kids are happy and healthy and have never been arrested, I’m living in my dream house in the country with a live-in cat (who, admittedly, does NOT do household chores, but who provides endless entertainment and companionship), I’m still relatively thin, I’m retired from a job I loved but no longer miss, I keep busy doing things I enjoy … (Now that I think about it, there might be some people out there who envy ME!)

I do admit, however, to having a spot of envy for people who love to exercise outdoors in the worst weather. Walking, hiking, jogging, skiing (downhill or cross-country), snowshoeing … any or all of the above seem like wonderful ways to spend the cold winter months in southern Ontario. And while I am well aware of the benefits of getting “out and about” in all kinds of weather – for both my physical and mental well-being – the idea of pulling on wind pants and a heavy coat, layering on scarves, hats, mitts, and boots, and trudging off through the snow makes me, quite honestly, want to rush back to bed and pull the covers over my head. It’s just too much effort. (I honestly think that in a former life I was some kind of animal that hibernated through the winter – maybe a bear or a chipmunk or a hedgehog).

Hibernating Hedgehog

I have also always been envious of those who undertake hearty fair weather outdoor activities with gusto. There’s a man who runs past our house on a regular basis (good weather and bad), dressed in spandex leggings and a turtleneck with a reflective vest over top (out here you don’t venture out during certain times of the year without your reflective vest on – for fear of being mistaken for a deer or wild turkey and getting shot). He always seems quite happy about what he’s doing (he waves if we’re outside and he always has a smile on his face). From the look of things, he’s around the same age as me (on “the other side of 55”), so he’s no “spring chicken”. He lives on the corner of the street our property butts up against, across from the end of the next road parallel to ours (I’ve seen him coming out of his driveway occasionally as I’ve been driving past). He may take different routes now and again, but he regularly runs around our “block” (usually going south from his house, then west on the next intersecting road, north on our street, around the corner and east towards home). That might not seem like a big deal to urban dwellers, but our rural “block” is 5 kilometres in length (just over 3 miles for U.S. readers). That’s about the same length as the infamous Nuerburgring race track in Germany (only rectangular in shape). My husband and I have walked it a few times (each “corner-to-corner street” is 1.25 km long; it takes around 45 minutes to do the circuit. It’s also uphill in two of the four directions!) Walking it occasionally is an entertaining (albeit challenging) endeavour; the idea of RUNNING it is unfathomable to me (but I envy my neighbour’s ability to do it on a regular basis).

Nuerburgring, Germany; photo from: Motorsport Guides

When I lived in more urban areas (pre-retirement) I would regularly see people of various ages running (or jogging – I’m not entirely sure of the difference) through our neighbourhood, or down along the lakefront path where I would occasionally walk. They were almost always dressed in nifty spandex outfits, with headphones in their ears, iPods strapped to their arms, and fanny packs around their waists holding bottles of water and whatever other supplies they might need (probably things like Polysporin and bandaids). I would occasionally look at them and think, “I could do that if I wanted to.” And I probably could have – I just didn’t want to! I never really “got” it. I mean, if a bear or a flock of angry Canada geese was chasing me, I might pick up my pace (from my comfortable 2.5 mile per hour saunter to a 3 or 4 mph jog), but I can’t imagine maintaining it for more than a minute or two. Neither my lungs nor my legs could take it. I’m just not built for speed (physically or mentally), I guess.

I fully understand how important regular exercise is. And I enjoy a morning yoga routine, mixed in with some mild strength training. I’m a keen gardener (logging anywhere from three to six hours a day of digging, weeding, planting, etc. during the warm weather), and my husband and I often walk “to the corner and back” (either north or south; each a moderately brisk 2.5 km [1.5 mile] journey), but we generally only go out when the weather is fine, and the roads are clear of ice and snow (there are no sidewalks out here!) We always say we “should get out more”, but somehow we never do – “other things” always seem to get in the way.

I wish I was more like the die-hard exercise enthusiasts who go to the gym regularly, run, jog, or hike for miles and miles and miles, in all kinds of weather, or who engage in other robust outdoor activities (biking, rowing, tennis, etc.) – but it’s just not me. Every winter I promise myself I’ll try harder … but there’s always one reason (excuse) or another that lets me off the hook. I envy them their motivation and their stamina. But it’s just not me.

Maybe next year …