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¡¡¡¡Jim and Casey are old friends from college. They¡¯re catching up with each other over brunch.

¡¡¡¡Casey: You¡¯re looking a bit trimmer these days, Jim. You got yourself a personal trainer or something?

¡¡¡¡Jim: You know I can¡¯t afford one of those. I bought this nifty1 little gadget instead. It counts how many steps I take and how many calories I burn off in the process.

¡¡¡¡Casey: And this has helped you lose weight? But it doesn¡¯t actually do anything.

¡¡¡¡Jim: Well, yes and no. The instruction manual suggests a goal of walking ten thousand steps every day.

¡¡¡¡Casey: I¡¯m sure I walk at least that every day.

¡¡¡¡Jim: That¡¯s what I thought, too. But by the end of the first day, I¡¯d only racked up2 a measly3 three thousand, five hundred steps.

¡¡¡¡Casey: No wonder your gut was dragging around the pavement.4 So this gadget¡¯s become your ever-present motivational speaker, huh?

¡¡¡¡Jim: Yeah. My goal became five thousand steps. That was easy---I just walked to the next subway station rather than to the one I usually go to.

¡¡¡¡Casey: But I bet you want to crack the magic number of ten thousand.

¡¡¡¡Jim: Dead right. I have to average another one thousand, five hundred steps per day. In fact, in an attempt to make it, I¡¯m going to walk all the way over to the dessert counter to get some chocolate cake.

¡¡¡¡Casey: Ah, old habits die hard.

¡¡¡¡---by Gavin Romayne