Today my yoga pants were grey with the faintest black pattern running through them. My shirt was the usual. Black. From Lululemon. Sportsbra was the famous TATATAMER. Today i didn't feel all that tame.
Bend and reach and bend and reach. Lift. Lift! Move to the right. Now move to the left. Bend and reach. Bend and reach. Side step. Lift one leg. Now the other. Jump. Jump. And bend and reach. Bend and reach.
Felt like I had been doing those cardio moves all day long today. In reality, as I checked my watch, it was only 7:40. AM. And bend. Bend. Bend.
The music was pumping. I was the only one in the house who was up so far. I wondered why no one was bothered by the music. Blurred lines would wake me out of a dead sleep any day.
Now it was the stair routine. Run down the stairs. Bend and lift. Bend and lift. Repeater. From the top. Run up the stairs. But all the way up. Like 3 floors this time. And you know the drill. I said, bend and lift. Bend and lift.
I was sweating. My heart was racing. My sports bra was certainly well appreciated. I felt hungry, I felt productive. And now we're at 8am. Not bad for a morning workout.
Only problem was this wasn't a gym workout at all. I've started to consider every bit of what i do in the house to be an exercise activity. Bending to load the dishwasher. Lifting to fill the cabinets with these clean dishes. Bending to do a laundry. Or switch to a dryer load. Side stepping from the milk my son spilled. Last night. Jumping from the pain I just felt from that stray lego piece I asked him to clean up yesterday morning. Bending to pick up the cap from the ketchup that we thought we lost three days ago. We threw that ketchup out. Reaching for the clothes in my kids' closets. Reaching to re-arrange for the summer season. Running up and down the seemingly endless stairs in this 3 story 1929 house.
For sometime I was bitter about working in the home. After all, we've discussed my master's degree and all the cash that's gone into my grooming and education. Some days I was envious of friends who employ full time nannies, housekeepers. A few of my best friends even have a proper staff. Please don't believe i'm so hard done by. I do have a lady who helps me once a week. She takes the edge off, but 7 weeks ago she broke her leg. Running to buy a pineapple that was on sale. Hopefully she'll never do that again.
But these days I embrace my position. I lunge hard when i walk across the wood floors with a broom in my hand. I bend deeply when i take a dish from the machine. In between, I stretch and i plank. I'm starting to see results, and for that i'm pretty happy. It's almost like i've created my own 1950's housewife workout. As I approach forty, I'm surprisingly okay with that. Sure beats heading to the gym in this heat. Namaste
