Bonnie and Biking

Photo by Everton Vila on Unsplash

I’m doing the best I can with the current situation. Certain elements are easier than others. Reading, cooking, staying home for days at a time, meditating, exercising…ah, hold up. Physical exertion and I are not close pals.

In kindergarten, I argued with my teacher when she asked us all to perform calisthenics. “Colleen, exercise is good for you.” she pleaded with me. “I do them at home.” I lied, hands on hips. I hated the song (Chicken Fat), the toe touches and the trunk twists. It was the first and probably the last time I was allowed to sit out as a conscientious objector. I hated gym class for the duration of my school days.

My husband, on the other hand, is a life-long athlete. He exercises every day and encourages me each chance he gets to be more active. It’s a tough sell, but in these COVID-19 times I’m starting to rethink the whole sloth thing.

I heard a quick screech of brakes and looked up to see my husband, sporting his cycling jersey, turn into our cul-de-sac. “How about we take a bike ride, Bonnie?” His teasing referred to Ms. Raitt, not Clyde Barrow’s partner. I told him earlier that afternoon my hair had come to resemble the blues great’s. Her trademark shock of gray, along with silver temples had taken over my auburn locks. A well-placed bike helmet would remedy the lack of hair dye, so I agreed.

I donned a day-glo citrine and black spandex outfit and headed out into the neighborhood. During the coronavirus crisis, the streets and sidewalks have virtually exploded with neighbors I wasn’t aware we had. We dodged kids and parents on bikes, people walking dogs and/or pushing strollers and an onslaught of vehicles turning into our formerly sleepy suburb. We pedaled past the park, which was full of cars and folks recreating.

Once we got a few blocks away, we picked up some speed. I think I actually felt what’s left of my graying eyebrows blowing in the breeze. By the time we returned to our garage, I noted a strange sensation between my shoulder blades. Nothing confirmed, but it may have actually been sweat.

So there is hope, in the time of corona. If I could get off my duff and exercise, who knows what awesome, active pursuits are looming on the horizon? Go ahead: Read, write, sew masks, watch TV. Throw a little perspiration-inducing activity into the mix for balance and we’ll get through this together.

Be well,

~Colleen