The question arrives at the same point in every appointment, delivered with the same professionally neutral expression. *And how’s the exercise going?* There’s a clipboard. There’s always a clipboard.
I used to tell the truth. That was my first mistake.
The honest answer — moderate, patchy, largely dependent on weather and the structural integrity of my left knee — produced follow-up questions, printed leaflets, and on one occasion a referral to a man in sportswear who talked about core stability with the zeal of someone who’d recently discovered a religion. I attended twice. I’m not going to discuss it further.
So I’ve made a small adjustment. When the question comes, I now say: yes, getting out most days, bit of a walk, keeping things moving. The clipboard is satisfied. We move on.
The ten thousand steps number — that specific, authoritative, entirely made-up figure — was developed by a Japanese pedometer company in 1964 as a marketing tool. My GP does not know this, or if she does, the clipboard doesn’t care.
What I’ve arrived at is a working theory about the consulting room as theatre. The GP has a role. I have a role. Neither of us gains much from a technically accurate exchange where I explain why my relationship with exercise is more complicated than the laminated poster allows for. Far better to confirm things are moving along and get on with the actual business.
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