There were exactly two times I attempted to exercise during this pandemic. The first, when we were in the bread-making phase: “I think I’ll go for a run this morning,” I announced to my husband not for the accolades, but more as a declaration that he’d be childcare for our busy toddler as I dabbled in the prospect of a new self-care routine.
It didn’t stick.
You see, we had skipped town in the early days of COVID-19 to a place with fewer cases and more outdoor space…and, unfortunately, no cell phone service. As it turned out, I felt far too vulnerable jogging alone and masked up, no other cars on the road and zero way to phone for help. Le sigh.
My second attempt was much more promising and took the form of a streaming service. Of course, I could fit in 15 minutes a day. I even made a chart to check off my progress. On the third day, my toddler burst through the doors of the tiny home we were sharing where boundaries on work and family failed to exist and thought it was hilarious to sit on my belly while I attempted to keep up with the ab exercises. (I unsubscribed.)