I wish it were easier to get started when it comes to exercise. The combination of all things down makes even the prospect of exercise almost insurmountable. If by some miraculous force of will I can push myself over that edge, and make my grudging self sweat a little, oh, the results!
I managed to spend a little time playing DDR again today. I try to stick to the fast songs, and I try to do the difficult level. The antics can be quite comical, and the result is a sweating, heart-pumping, chuckling me. All good things. The boost lasts quite some time, too. Instead of a nap after work, I tidied BB’s room. It wouldn’t be honest to say that I cleaned it, but where the floor was not visible prior to entry, it is now bravely exposed. I gave up sorting the toys into their various bins. It seems pointless, when they all end up on the floor together. I think I’m the only one who appreciates the order of like things sorted with like things. He’s nearly four. He likes chaos.
I feel generally happier, and with that, hopeful. Hope is a powerful thing. Depression, on the other hand, is a life sapping force, and I wish it weren’t so easy for it to catch me in its suffocating grasp.
As for hope. It prompts us to try things we might not otherwise try. Breastfeeding, for example. After a shower (bliss!) I noticed that milk was dripping from me. Unprecedented! So what do I do? I take my beautifully content little boy and put him to the breast. It’s the football hold, the milk is freely flowing, there is NO WORK INVOLVED. What does he do? Screws up his face and screams like there’s no tomorrow. Gadget just laughs and shakes his head. She’ll never learn, he says to LB. The Gadget boys don’t like boobs. It’s just the way it is.
My exercise endorphines are still hanging in there, so I don’t let this lapse of sanity crush my otherwise fragile feelings. Pumping is more efficient, anyway. I get both sides drained at the same time, and I get to use the time to read, surf, blog, or otherwise entertain myself on the computer. It’s me-time!
