20 Days and 20 Nights

I did some calculations in my head yesterday while sitting in D.C. traffic. Our commute is awful. Just how awful can be measured in direct proportion to the scowls on my husband’s face every morning and night. Because we work a few blocks away from each other, and metro is expensive and unpredictable – my husband and I drive in together every morning on the carpool lanes on Route 66. In the summer, it works out because we bring our bikes in the car and ride after work. My husband would ride to work in the morning more often, but there are no showers and there is no place for him to store his bike. So, we drive. 16 miles. Each way. Which is equal to, on average, one hour each way, at least. We get to work around 9(ish). On a good day I’m done by 6:30. On a normal day, I am done by 7. Then, when the days are longer we ride or I run. Which means, we don’t normally get home until about 9ish on many nights.

So here are my calculations:

On average, 2 hours a day commuting. 5 days a week = 10 hours a week.

That’s 40 hours a month. Multiply that by 12 months, that’s 480 hours.

Divide that by 24. That’s 20 days.

20 days and nights, on average, each year, sitting in our car commuting. Which got me thinking, if I had those 20 days back, what would I do with them?

Days 1-10 would be spent on vacation. Probably somewhere in Colorado. The days would be full of running, hiking, cycling and amazing views. That leaves me with 10 days. I’d probably use about two days catching up on things at home, laundry, grocery shopping, watching my DVR and movies. I’d spend a day looking through all of my vacation photo albums from the last two years and finally make the photo wall I have been planning. Day 14, I would probably get my hair done, spend the afternoon shopping, and then meet my husband for a date night at a fabulous restaurant we have always wanted to try. On Day 15, I would experiment with all sorts of new recipes and have friends over for a dinner party. For days 16 and 17, I’d ask my grandmother what she would like to do – and I would take her to those places, whatever they were. Day 18, I’d spend getting my act together for my team for next year’s Philadelphia Livestrong Challenge. Day 19 would be a long run with an afternoon spent curled up with a good book. And finally, on Day 20 – I’d conquer a 70-80 mile bike ride in rolling Virginia farm country with my husband. Somewhere new.

So next time, I see my husband’s face turn to a frown and I can feel my blood pressure start to boil as we inch along our commute, I will just close my eyes and visualize these activities. And each time one of us exclaims, “I can’t take this anymore,” I say we make a promise to plan one of these missed days for an upcoming weekend. Twenty days of commuting may be bad, but it’s a great excuse to make time to live.