One Season of Car Free Fridays

Introduction

This spring, I’m conducting a personal experiment: one season of Car Free Fridays.

The idea is simple. Once a week, instead of driving to work, I’ll take the bus from my home in Northeast Kansas City to Solaris Massage on the Westside. I’m choosing Fridays because the longer daylight of spring makes that feel more manageable, and because I have enough flexibility in my work schedule to get home before dark.

This isn’t a purity test, and it’s not a branding exercise. I’m not pretending that everyone can do this, or that every city makes this easy. Public transit in Kansas City can be CHALLENGING.I believe that the best way to change a system is to PARTICIPATE in it. I know flexibility, transit access, and daylight all matter. I also know that for many people, driving is the only realistic option.

But for me, in this season, this experiment is possible. And that makes it worth trying.

In some ways, the seed for this was planted a long time ago.

One core value I got from my mother was this: always live somewhere that allows you to get to work by bus. Even if you have a car, life happens. Cars need repairs. Unexpected expenses come up. And when they do, having another way to get to work can reduce stress in a very practical way.

Growing up, my mother made sure we took the bus places. Because of her, I learned how to feel comfortable on public transit, and how to navigate Kansas City that way. I’m grateful for that now.

A few years ago, when my car needed a major repair, I took the 11 bus for a couple of weeks. It took longer than driving, yes. But it also gave me something driving doesn’t: time to look out the window, notice the city, and let someone else do the navigating. Around that time, a coworker asked me a question that stuck with me: Why don’t you take the bus more regularly?

It was a fair question.

So this spring, I’m finally following that thought a little further.

Hypothesis

My hypothesis is that building one car-free day into my week will change more than just how I get to work.

I think it may do several things:

  • help me feel more connected to Kansas City at street level

  • make Fridays feel more intentional and less rushed

  • add a little more ordinary movement into my week

  • create a recurring rhythm that feels grounding rather than inconvenient

  • remind me that not all wellness happens inside a gym, a treatment room, or a formal routine

As someone who works at the intersection of fitness, recovery, and community, that last point matters to me.

I spend a lot of time thinking about how people care for themselves, how they build sustainable routines, and how movement fits into everyday life. So much of wellness culture focuses on optimization, intensity, and formal workouts. But some of the most meaningful habits are quieter than that. Walking to the bus stop. Waiting outdoors. Moving through a neighborhood at a human pace. Seeing familiar streets from a different angle.

I suspect Car Free Fridays will remind me that movement doesn’t always need to be impressive to be valuable.

I also think it may shift my relationship to time.

Driving often feels efficient, but it can also make the day feel compressed and transactional: get in, get there, move on. Riding the bus asks something different. It asks for a little more planning, a little more patience, and a willingness to move with the city instead of simply through it.

My hunch is that this slower pace may feel less like lost time than I assume.

Research

This experiment isn’t entirely hypothetical. I already know a few things.

First, I know the route is possible. I’ve done it before when I needed to, during that stretch when my car was in the shop for a major repair.

Second, I know that Kansas City looks different from a bus window than it does from behind a steering wheel. When I’m driving, my attention is narrowed to traffic, timing, lane changes, and parking. On the bus, I get to observe. I notice buildings, side streets, people waiting at stops, small details in the city that are easy to miss when I’m focused on operating a vehicle.

Third, I know that experience has stayed with me. The fact that I’m returning to this idea now tells me it mattered more than I realized at the time.

I also know a few practical things that make this experiment more workable:

  • I have access to a route that cuts diagonally across the city

  • I can shift my work schedule enough to make the timing functional

  • spring gives me more daylight and better weather

  • I already have enough familiarity with public transit that this doesn’t feel intimidating

That matters, because every experiment has conditions. This one is not happening in a vacuum. It’s happening because a certain set of circumstances makes it possible.

And maybe that’s part of the lesson too: sometimes a meaningful change doesn’t require a total lifestyle overhaul. Sometimes it just requires noticing that, for this season, something is available that wasn’t practical before.

Experiment Design

The experiment is straightforward:

For one season — spring — I will make Fridays my car-free day.

Instead of driving to work, I will take the bus from Northeast Kansas City to the Westside and back.

I’m not setting this up as a rigid challenge with a gold star at the end. I’m more interested in paying attention than in being perfect. If there’s a genuine reason a particular Friday doesn’t work, that’s part of real life. The point is not perfection. The point is repetition, observation, and learning.

What I’ll be observing includes:

  • how the commute feels compared with driving

  • whether the extra travel time feels frustrating, useful, restful, or all three

  • whether I notice changes in my stress level or pace on Fridays

  • whether I feel more connected to my city and neighborhood life

  • whether this weekly rhythm affects how I think about movement, time, and routine

I’m also curious about whether the commute itself becomes part of the value.

In fitness spaces, we often separate “exercise” from “daily life,” as though movement only counts when it is planned, tracked, or sweaty enough. But real life movement matters too. Walking to stops, standing, climbing on and off transit, carrying what you need, adjusting to weather — all of that is part of a physically engaged life.

I don’t expect Car Free Fridays to turn my commute into a cinematic wellness ritual. Some Fridays may be lovely. Some may be mildly annoying. Some may simply be ordinary.

That’s fine.

Ordinary is part of what I want to pay attention to.

Predicted Results

Before the season is over, here’s what I think may happen.

I think the bus ride will feel slower than driving in clock time, but possibly better in nervous-system time.

I think I’ll arrive with a slightly different mindset — maybe less activated, less hurried, or at least less tangled up in traffic energy.

I think I’ll notice more of Kansas City. Not just major landmarks, but small things: the rhythm of neighborhoods, the feel of different blocks, who’s out and about, the way light hits buildings late in the day, the simple geography of moving diagonally across the city without being sealed inside a car.

I think the routine itself will become meaningful. There’s something about designating one day for a particular way of moving through the world that can make the whole week feel more intentional.

I also think this experiment may deepen something I already believe: that wellness is not only about what happens during an appointment, a workout, or a class. It’s also about how we structure our days, how we move through our communities, and how much room we leave for attention, adaptation, and connection.

Maybe Car Free Fridays will feel refreshing. Maybe they’ll feel inconvenient. Most likely, they’ll feel like both.

But I suspect that even the inconvenience will be informative.

Because sometimes the question isn’t “What is the fastest way to do this?”
Sometimes the question is “What changes when I do this differently, on purpose?”

Why This Matters to Me

As a massage therapist, and as someone whose work is closely tied to fitness and recovery, I spend a lot of time encouraging people to think about sustainability.

Not just what feels good in a single moment, but what can actually become part of a life.

That applies to recovery. It applies to movement. It applies to community too.

For me, Car Free Fridays sit at the intersection of all three.

They are about movement, because walking and transit make activity part of the day rather than a separate task.

They are about community, because riding the bus and moving through the city at street level changes the way I experience Kansas City.

And they are about recovery, because shifting pace — even slightly — can change how a day feels in the body.

I’m interested in what happens when I align my routine a little more closely with the values I talk about all the time: movement, resilience, practicality, neighborhood life, and taking care of yourself in ways that are realistic and repeatable.

This experiment is one small way of walking the walk.

Conclusion

CHECK BACK FOR UPDATES

What actually happened over one season of Car Free Fridays?

Did the routine feel grounding, inconvenient, energizing, calming, or something else entirely?

What surprised me?

What felt easier than expected?

What felt harder?

And what, if anything, will I carry forward into the next season?

Summary

This spring, I’m trying one season of Car Free Fridays: a simple weekly experiment in taking the bus to work instead of driving.

My hypothesis is that one car-free day each week may help me feel more connected to the city, more intentional in my routine, and more aware of how movement, time, and community shape daily life.

The route is familiar. The season makes it possible. The questions are open.

Now it’s time to run the experiment.

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