I have been remembering my friend Carol lately as I try to exercise a bit each day and get my pre-pregnancy body back. Carol and her husband were my neighbours in Healdsburg. They once took me on a ski trip to Tahoe. I was 32. They were 55 (ish). They have exercised at least one hour a day for most of their lives.
At Tahoe, they skied circles around me. I was tired by 2:30 or so. They kept going until the last run (AND not on bunny hills either–double diamonds and moguls I am sure). Regardless, I vowed when I was 55, I wanted to kick some 32-year-old butt.
Carol and I used to walk in the mornings when we could—sometimes just a few kilometres, sometimes around the entire mountain (Fitch Mountain–the bump in the landscape we lived on). Sometimes we walked on a weekday morning before work or sometimes even a Saturday morning. I once told her Saturday mornings were best for me: Having to get up early and walk around Fitch Mountain kept me honest the night before. Meaning, I wouldn’t go out and drink on Friday night if I knew I was getting up on Saturday morning to exercise.
She told me: “Honestly Jen. Even if you do go out and have a few too many, you’ll need to get up and go. Exercise anyway. It is the best you’re going to feel all day!”
So these last few weeks as I struggle to find the energy and make time for exercise I think of her. Although, these days, my worries are not about having one too many the night before–but more about just getting enough sleep. And not having to get up five times a night to check on sick babies.
I find I just need to get up and go. Then it’s done. In the morning when I have enough energy. And she is right. It is the best I feel all day.