5 Free (or Almost Free) Habits That Replaced My Expensive Ones
Hi, I’m Jay. Over the last few years I’ve been slowly trading in pricey “normal” habits for lower-cost (or completely free) ones. I live in Canada, so I’m dealing with the same rising grocery bills, higher rent, and “how is my phone plan this much?” moments you probably are. These swaps aren’t extreme — they’re simple shifts that lowered my monthly costs while actually improving my day-to-day life.
Below are five expensive habits I let go of and what I replaced them with: walking and hiking instead of a gym membership, the library instead of buying every book, home cooking instead of restaurants, community events instead of paid entertainment, and growing a bit of my own food. I’ll share real numbers based on my own spending so you can see how it might look in your life.
1. Walking & Hiking Instead of a Gym Membership
For years, I paid for a mid-range gym membership that I felt guilty about not using. It was around $55 a month, plus the transit or gas to get there. When the pandemic hit and gyms closed, I started walking in my neighbourhood just to stay sane. That simple habit stuck — and the gym didn’t.
Now my movement routine is built around things that are almost free: walking, light jogging, biking, and weekend hikes on nearby trails. I use a basic step counter app on my phone and aim for a daily target, but I don’t obsess over it. On weekends, I pack a simple lunch and take advantage of local conservation areas and provincial parks. In many Canadian cities, you can get day-use or seasonal passes that are far cheaper than a year of gym fees.
My numbers: I cancelled my $55/month gym membership and cut roughly $15/month in transit costs I was using mainly to get to the gym. That’s about $70/month, or $840 a year, redirected into good walking shoes and the occasional park pass.
Practical tip: Treat walking like an appointment. I book a 30–40 minute walk in my calendar most days, usually right after work, and I keep a dedicated “walking outfit” by the door to reduce friction.
2. Library Instead of Buying Every Book
I love books, and for a long time, I treated bookstores like candy shops. A “quick look” easily turned into $40–$60 in new reads. It felt harmless, but over a year it became one of my sneakiest spending categories.
The turning point came when I moved and realized how many boxes of books I was lugging that I’d never reread. Around the same time, I rediscovered the public library. Modern Canadian libraries are wildly underrated: digital holds, ebooks, audiobooks, online magazines, even access to Kanopy for films in many cities.
Now my rule is simple: the library is my default, buying a book is the exception. I borrow most non-fiction, and I only buy a physical copy if it becomes a true favourite I’ll reference or lend out. This keeps my shelves minimal and my costs low.
My numbers: I used to average 3–4 books a month at about $25 each after tax — roughly $75/month, or $900 a year. These days, I might buy 8–10 carefully chosen books a year, so around $200–$250 total. That’s a savings of about $650–$700 a year, plus less clutter.
Practical tip: Put your library card in your wallet or phone case like a credit card. I also keep a running “to read” list in my notes app, and once a week I place or manage holds so I always have something coming in without impulse buying.
3. Home Cooking Instead of Restaurant Default Mode
I enjoy eating out, but for a while, it became the default answer to everything: I’m tired — order in. I’m bored — brunch. I’m catching up with a friend — let’s go out. When I finally tracked the numbers, I realized I was casually spending $250–$350 a month on restaurants, takeout, and delivery fees.
My minimalist side pushed me to simplify. Instead of a full-on “no eating out” rule, I flipped the default: home cooking first, restaurants as a planned treat. I keep a small rotation of simple, Canadian-winter-friendly meals: big pots of soup, sheet pan dinners, stir-fries, and slow-cooker stews. I buy store brands where I can and stick to a core list of staples.
Batch cooking has been huge. On Sundays, I cook one or two big meals and portion them out for lunches and quick dinners. It’s not Instagram-pretty, but it keeps me from hitting “order now” at 8 p.m. on a Tuesday.
My numbers: I cut restaurant and delivery spending from roughly $300/month down to about $80–$120/month (usually 2–3 intentional meals out). Groceries went up by around $60/month because I was cooking more. Net savings: about $140–$180 a month, or roughly $1,700–$2,100 a year.
Practical tip: Have a “panic list” of 3 super-fast meals you can make with ingredients you almost always have on hand (think: eggs and toast with veggies, pasta with canned tomatoes and garlic, frozen veggies with rice and soy sauce). That safety net alone can save you from a lot of last-minute delivery orders.
4. Community Events Instead of Paid Entertainment
Entertainment used to mean movie theatres, concerts, paid festivals, and expensive nights out. Fun, yes, but after tickets, drinks, snacks, and transportation, a single evening out could hit $80–$150 easily.
Over time, I noticed something: I wasn’t actually happier after the more expensive nights out. Some of my favourite memories came from low-key evenings at free events, or even simple walks with a coffee. So I started deliberately looking for low-cost community options.
Most Canadian cities and towns have a surprisingly rich calendar of free or near-free events: library talks, neighbourhood festivals, outdoor movie nights, community centre workshops, art walks, farmers’ markets, volunteer opportunities, and more. A lot of them are family-friendly and walkable or transit-accessible.
These days, I check my city’s event listings and the library website before I look at Ticketmaster. I still splurge occasionally on a concert or special event, but it’s intentional, not automatic.
My numbers: I used to average at least two “big” paid outings a month at around $80 each (ticket plus extras), so about $160/month, or $1,920 a year. Now I might do one bigger paid event every second month (around $80) and fill the gaps with free or low-cost community events. That works out to about $40/month on average, or $480 a year. Savings: roughly $1,400 a year.
Practical tip: Subscribe to your city’s or town’s email newsletters, follow your local library, parks department, and community centres on social media, and create a shared calendar with friends or family where you drop in interesting free events.
5. Growing Some Food Instead of Buying It All
I’m not a homesteader, and I don’t have acres of land. I have a small space and a Canadian climate that doesn’t exactly scream “year-round produce.” But even with that, growing a bit of my own food has become one of my favourite low-cost habits.
I started with herbs on a windowsill: basil, parsley, green onions regrown from the roots. Then I graduated to a couple of containers on a balcony, with cherry tomatoes, lettuce, and some hardy herbs. In later seasons, I joined a community garden plot for a small annual fee, which gave me more space, tools, and experienced gardeners to learn from.
Financially, you won’t replace your whole grocery bill with a balcony garden, but that’s not the point. For me, the wins are fresher food, less packaging, and a closer connection to what I eat. It also nudged me to cook at home more, because when you’ve got fresh herbs or tomatoes you grew yourself, it’s easier to build a meal around them.
My numbers: I spend about $40–$60 a year on soil, seeds, and the occasional replacement pot. In return, I get a steady supply of herbs from spring to fall, plus some greens and tomatoes in peak season. Rough estimate: I’d spend $10–$15 a month on fresh herbs and small-pack produce otherwise, so over the 6–7 month growing season that’s roughly $80–$100 saved. It’s not life-changing money, but combined with the other habits, it stacks up.
Practical tip: If you’re new to this, start comically small: one or two herbs plus green onions in water. Or look into community gardens, which are common in many Canadian cities and usually cost far less than a month of groceries.
What These Swaps Added Up To
None of these changes felt radical on their own. But when I zoom out and do the math, the impact is real. Roughly, here’s what these swaps added up to for me in annual savings:
- Walking & hiking vs. gym: about $840
- Library vs. buying books: about $650–$700
- Home cooking vs. default dining out: about $1,700–$2,100
- Community events vs. paid entertainment: about $1,400
- Growing some food: about $80–$100
Conservatively, that’s in the neighbourhood of $4,500–$5,000 a year back in my pocket. More importantly, my life actually feels simpler and calmer. Fewer subscriptions to track, fewer impulse purchases, fewer “we should really go more often to make it worth it” guilt loops.
These habits are less about depriving myself and more about quietly opting out of expensive defaults. I’m not trying to win at frugality; I’m just building a life where my spending mostly lines up with what I actually value.
Your Turn: What Have You Swapped?
I’ve shared five of my biggest free (or almost free) swaps here, but I’m just one person in one Canadian city. I know a lot of you have your own creative, low-cost habits that replaced pricier ones.
I’d love to hear from you: What’s one expensive habit you’ve swapped for a free or near-free alternative? How much do you think it’s saving you each year, and how has it changed your day-to-day life?
Share your favourite swaps in the comments — your idea might be exactly what someone else needs to read today.
