Does trudging through snow count as cardio?

Does it? I really think it should. You know what I'm talking about...you put on the heavy boots (kinda like small ankle weights come to think of it, yeah) and you hit the sidewalk. If you live in the concrete jungle as we do (for the next 30 sleeps, at least) you must traverse many a sidewalk until you reach your final destination, and you can bet your sweet bippy the vast majority of those sidewalks have yet to be rid of the latest dustings. Add a chilly evening to the mix, and you're faced with some very rough goings as you make your less than merry way about town.

As today was the first time this winter that I have faced said conditions, I had a momentary memory lapse - I'd forgotten how challenging in can be to walk in snow. Running late as I was (shock of shocks), I decided to pick up the pace in an effort to hit my office chair before the clock struck 9:15.

You see, in my world, at 9:14, you're late. But at 9:16, you're treading on very dangerous ground. The keeners have come in, turned on their computers, and are by this point returning to their cubes from the first coffee venture of the day. At 9:14 you're safe...they're still in the elevator on their way back up. But by 9:16 they're gliding past your still-dark office, glancing at the closed door and then at one another. Hmmm....late. Again. Tsk tsk tsk. Bugger.

Back to trudging. I've picked up my pace and I notice my breathing has galloped into high gear. Interesting. I'm walking, I'm walking, and I'm huffing and puffing? How very strange. Then it hits me - my heart rate is up, I'm sweating a bit - this could be a workout! I'm getting cardiovascular exercise!! Whoo freakin hoo! Who needs expensive treadmills and gym memberships? I've got the great outdoors and mother nature! I've got to go this way anyway, so watch me multitask, world! I'm getting to work AND getting into my target heart range! And before I know it, I've made my way to the subway station, a train shows up right away, and I'm whisked towards St George station and my happy office chair.

In that moment, I actually deluded myself into believing I could be one of those superwomen, the ones that get up, work out before they go to the office, and actually make it to their desks before the keeners glide by. I had visions of myself doing this and more every morning. And then I shook my head and snapped out of it.

Come on. I know myself. I mean, I detest exercise, I really do - as evidenced by the fact that I have now devoted an entire post to an attempt at rationalizing a 5 minute walk to the subway as a bona fide cardiac workout. No superwoman status for me anytime in the near future. But hey, any exercise is good exercise, right?

It may not have burned great quantities of fat, but picking up the pace did get my still-diva-sized butt into my chair for 9:12. A whole three minutes ahead of schedule, and avoiding those glares is worth all the huffin and puffin in the world.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?