With all the turmoil and bustle and anguish and anxiety, I haven't had time to take care of myself. I've spent every evening after work with my mom, getting home around 9:00 pm-ish. That's too late to even think about any kind of exercise. It takes a couple of hours to unwind enough to go to bed, and even then my brain races along while my body tries to rest. With all the tossing and turning I'm too tired to get up and exercise before work; I'm afraid I'll be so uncoordinated with sleeplessness that I'll hurt myself. My system has keenly felt the lack of activity so this morning I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the treadmill.
Three miles later I was smiling, relaxed, breathing heavily, sweating heavily-er (sorry, I liked that word), ready to face the world. I was tired, but a good tired instead of a beat-up tired. For a short time I was thinking about running, thinking about the amusing program I was watching, thinking about everything except my family issues.
I'd forgotten how good that feels. Hmm. Maybe there is something to all the talk about how exercise is good for you ...
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