Day 21 or 22. What does it matter?
I’ve started walking in the mornings before the kids wake up. I notice a lot of people running, many look like they haven’t run in awhile. Actually, they look kind of miserable. Quarantine is a good time to start new exercise routines, I guess.
As I walk, I listen to my latest podcast obsession Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend (this one is particularly funny). Humor is keeping me going, and I figure laughing out loud burns a few extra calories. Added bonus: People tend to give an unshowered 40-something cackling to herself a wide berth. Good for social distancing.
I noticed a sign at the park, warning about tick-borne diseases. So, I spend an hour each morning walking and worrying about something other than Coronavirus. It’s a nice distraction.
My youngest dubbed Fridays “no shirt Friday.” Trying to convince him to get fully dressed has become futile. Besides, the whole Lord of the Flies vibe feels right. “No shirt Friday” hasn’t seemed to cut down on laundry, however.
I do a lot of things I didn’t used to do. I’m like a pioneer. I make chicken stock out of leftover chicken dinners and wash cloth napkins. I sigh a lot. Also, I am a frisbee player now. Like several times a day. On the front lawn. I’ve yet to actually catch the frisbee. Between ducking and blocking my face, I like to watch people pass by. More runners.
I realize they’re not exercising, they’re running from their families.
Yesterday, my youngest started floating the idea of “No Pants Tuesdays.” I think I’m going to take up running. It looks fun.