It took more than 6 cumulative hours spread across 3 days this week to excavate my driveway. I cleared enough of a path that I can get my car in and out, which amounts to 1,000 cubic feet of snow. Now this tidbit that ChatGPT gave me when I asked for that calculation really blew my mind:
Fresh snow is roughly 7–20 lb per cubic foot depending on density.
That puts your total somewhere between 7,000 and 20,000 pounds moved.
That’s between 3.5 and 10 TONS of snow!
🤯🤯🤯
My arms, wrists, neck, traps, and shoulders were the casualties, with my shoulder blades aching up through and including today — and no wonder, given that information! Thank goodness for weekend getaways that magically include a friend of a friend who moonlights as a massage therapist and had no problem “practicing” on my destroyed muscles! Shout out to Advil PM, too. Oh, and heating pads. Multiple, high-heat, long-lasting heating pads.
I lightly complained about the aching, but to be completely honest, I loved it.
I loved that it hurt.
I loved that it made me tired.
I loved that it was hard.
I loved all of that because none of those things stopped me.
My body did it. My body can do this now. All alone, no help; just me and my determination. That’s months of physical and mental conditioning making a big ol’ flex. And hey, me and my determination? We know how to party.
I know it sounds strange to be genuinely excited about having to toil in single-digit (Fahrenheit) temperatures under dwindling sunlight to shovel snow. I’m not saying it’s my new favorite pastime or that I’m eager to repeat it. What I am saying is that it gives me another giant pile of evidence of how far I’ve come since last year. My body from February of 2025 would not have been up to this task. My body of February 2026 says bring it on.
This was a week of zero half-marathon training or even setting foot in the gym, which also included travel and broken sleep cycles because of my trip. What I got right was staying on track with my eating, even while surrounded by a smorgasbord of snacks and a gaggle of people partaking in them. (I mean, cake, cookies, alcohol, chips… you name it.) I also made sure I got quality movement, even on scheduled rest days that I strategically built in to account for this, so that I would meet my steps every day and not fall short on Power 11. Two mornings in a row, I went running on a frozen beach in 10-degree air, not only keeping myself moving, but deftly avoiding the patches of ice, the deceptively deep snow, and the slippery, iced-over seashells embedded in the congealed sand. My only real exercise other than that was hoofing it through airports and, of course, grueling rounds of digging up snow.
With that backdrop, I was not feeling confident that the scale would be kind at today’s weigh-in. I am driving hard towards my 100-pound milestone, which I want to hit by the 11th. I’m close, but it’s not a lock until it’s a lock — I needed this one to count, even if it’s true I’d be happy with any number that was smaller than last week’s.
Sure enough, the drop I posted was modest: 1.2 pounds.
But a loss is a loss.
And I’m 1.2 pounds closer to my goal.
I can dig it!



