Adapting Routine

Sam and I had a video phone call with a friend a couple of weeks ago because she wanted us to “meet” the person she’s been dating for the last few months. We had been tentatively making plans to meet up for a dinner and then the pandemic put us on lock down, so we figured it was the closest we’d get to a meeting for at least the foreseeable future. Toward the end of the call our friend asked what I was most looking forward to about life returning to normal and my instant response was “Being able to go back to the gym,” but then I said, “Really, my life isn’t that much different than it was before. So, I guess I’m one of the lucky ones.”

After we ended the call, I started to think a bit more about this though. I am fortunate in some sense that my main job is one that allows me to work from home, but my relatively newly acquired position as a substitute teacher has definitely fallen to the wayside since it’s not needed, and my primary job as an artist has no real function because without the ability to have fairs, tours and other places to show, it feels nearly pointless to make new things. On the other hand, it is an outlet and something to busy my mind, but I find it difficult to really get much done when there isn’t some sort of deadline looming on the horizon. In true-to-many-artist form, keeping discipline when the timeline is fluid (or non-existent) becomes very challenging.

Having a couple of weeks to think about it now, I have developed a routine, but that schedule looks different than it did before — at least in some sense. Without consciously trying to, I have adopted the habit of running (or walking) the dogs early-early for about an hour and a half, then coming home and going for a ride that spans 2-4 hours, coming back to eat, and then using our makeshift gym in the garage to get in a workout. By that time, it’s time to start on dinner. Somehow I seem to have made “working out” my job over the last several weeks, which doesn’t seem like such a bad thing on the surface, but I can feel my body rebelling the longer this goes on.

While the dogs get walked/run every day even pre-pandemic, I generally choose either a gym work out or a ride on any given day during the week, and my rides are generally kept to around an hour (or a little longer, depending on how much time I can spare). On the one hand, I’m grateful for all the time during the day to be active, but on the other, my hips, knees, back, neck and even wrists are feeling the increase in use and they are making it known that they are displeased. It’s not so much the good aching that comes from stretching comfort levels a bit, but rather teetering on injury from overuse. By the time the weekend hits (when we generally do a big chunk of our riding), I am already beat up but find myself soldiering through, believing that it’s somehow making me stronger. Who knows? Maybe it is.

In the meantime, weeds are overgrowing in the garden and all of the projects around the house that others seem to be accomplishing have gone completely ignored as I feel the compulsion to stick with this newly acquired routine. I suppose there are worse things I could be doing, but as tends to be an ongoing issue for me, I know there needs to be balance. I suppose I am realizing how much I enjoy being active though and how much it is a part of life. I am thankful that we are still able to venture outside (particularly as I know many parts of the country and world cannot so easily do so), even if it means wearing face coverings.

Today is supposed to be a windier-than-usual day, so I expect that means I should get to those weeds instead of venturing out for a ride. While my allergies won’t be happy, it should please the neighbors to be rid of the eyesore that is currently our front yard. Perhaps it will help me feel as though I’m contributing something of some sort of value too, and maybe that’s just what I need right now… even if the bike is calling to me.