Last January, I set a goal to get my kids outside for 1,000 hours in a single year, and I failed by a few hundred hours. But it’s a goal I’m setting again this year. If you’re a Michigan parent with little ones, you should too.
Another thing I should confess is that I didn’t come up with this idea on my own. 1,000 Hours Outside is a for-profit company run by Ginny Yurich, a mom who lives in Southeast Michigan. She’s got nearly 800,000 followers on Instagram, where she’s popularized the idea of spending a ludicrous amount of time in the fresh air.
Ginny’s posts are full of good reasons for getting outdoors, but they’re not what convinced me to join the challenge. I jumped on board after a friend told me how much easier it made life with her two little kids. Suddenly, I was all ears.
So last January, I started sending the kids out of the house. At first, they spent less time outside than it took to get them ready to go outside. Soggy mittens and petrified hats littered our front room for the rest of the season. But they were excited to make winter bonfires with dad as the sun disappeared behind the trees. And I was excited to cook dinner in a quiet house.
We ticked off 18 hours that first month. A measly amount, but hard won.
Our outside time didn’t grow much in the early months of 2025, especially after the flu knocked us onto the couch for a few weeks in March.
But those 15 hours we spent outside the rest of the winter were instructive. We chose to go outside. Even when it was cold and mucky. Even when we only made it for an hour. The kids learned to put their snow pants on faster, and I learned to care less about puddles on the floor.
Finally, it was springtime. We logged 52 hours in the weak April sunshine.
The spring taught me a lesson about gear. The 1,000 hour challenge costs nothing to join, but it’s a lot more doable if you spend a little money on the right outwear. You can still be thrifty: My kids tromp around in rain boots we bought for a few bucks at a garage sale.
But we also sprung for rain suits that make wet days much more fun to spend outside. So fun we were outside for 62 hours in May.
When the summer began, we had spent a total of 147 hours outside. By the time the leaves started to fall, that number had risen to 464. The habits we built in the winter and spring kept us outside all summer.
And what a dream of a summer it was. We regularly logged five or more hours out in Michigan’s finest weather, where it’s cool in the shade and sizzling in the sun. We took the kids swimming every day we could, rushing through work so we could get to the pool. We camped in the backyard, took sandy hikes along Lake Superior in the U.P., and let the kids loose at our favorite playgrounds.
The benefit of all this time outdoors? I could tell you that this challenge kept my kids off screens. I could rattle off facts linking outdoor time with happier kids, healthier kids, more resilient kids. I’m sure all of that is true. And I know it’s all important.
But for me, the real benefit of all this time outside was what my friend observed: It makes life with little kids a lot easier. By the fall, I was entering the third trimester of my third pregnancy, and I needed a win. This challenge was it.
With the kids outside for large portions of the day, they didn’t play with toys. There were no Magnatiles to pick up, no Legos to step on. There was less laundry to do because they lived in their bathing suits.
Meal times were a cinch because we ate so many of them out of our little pink cooler at the pool, at the park, in the backyard. No crumbs, no clean up.
The kids slept hard after digging in the dirt pit under our hammock swing, while I sat in a plastic adirondack chair reading a book.
But the best benefit has been my kids’ sense of independence. We’ve instituted what my husband and I call “Outdoor Cat Time,” where the kids are sent outside to play by themselves. We crack a window and listen for screaming. Meanwhile, my three- and five-year-olds zoom around our backyard in their red convertible, pick rotten tomatoes out of my dead garden, and push each other down their plastic slide.
I stopped counting our hours come September—again, third trimester, third pregnancy. But the glories continued. My girls spent the end of the year jumping into leaf piles, building snowmen, and playing a game they call “rascal rats,” where they create what looks like homeless encampments out of junk they find in the garage. I couldn’t be happier.
It’s the start of a new year now, and I’m ready to renew our attempt at 1,000 hours. I don’t feel bad about missing the mark in 2025. As the challenge’s founder says, “Even if you fail, you win.”
That’s true. Our 464 documented hours were full of fun memories, lasting lessons, and meaningful benefits.
But I think there’s something to be said about spending a truly ludicrous amount of time outside. To get 1,000 hours, Michigan families need to spend the vast majority of nice days outside. And you’ll still need to spend some of the less-nice days out there, too.
It’s a little nuts. But it’s a pursuit that will reorient your family life. It did mine, and we didn’t even make it to the finish line.
Katie Clarey is a contributing writer for Michigan Enjoyer.
