I’m sitting in the rectangle of light made by the beams’ ends that come through my window and rest on the floor. After four days of not exercising first thing, I managed 15 minutes on my bike in the basement this morning. It sounds so of the times and annoying to say it helps. It helps as much as a good night’s sleep. That pushing my brain away in favor of pedaling. It’s not that I don’t think, it’s more that the motion changes how I think.
Exercise is the elixir that makes my kids growing up bearable. That makes me growing up bearable. I can look at the number attached to my upcoming birthday and feel lucky after I peddle instead of jealous, the way I feel when I see the young moms at school with their tiny creatures. My jealousy isn’t even attached to wanting to go back. I don’t want to go back there, to that minefield of early elementary school. But forward? To my kids using the wings they are meticulously crafting in our home? Gulp. Forward we go.