Day Ten:

The Problem of Exercise

Having fallen off my stool (in Yorkshire we call it a ‘buffett’) in my attempt to simulate   swimming, I must devise another form of exercise.

No floor-based exercise such as press-ups or Yoga appeals. It’s not that I can’t get down but that it’d take me the rest of the week to get up again.

 I live in a small and generally quiet cul de sac but because everyone is home right now, each time I decide on a short walk, one of the residents pops out with the same idea, so I leap back until they’re past.

No sooner is the street clear and I venture again when the next person decides on their constitutional.    Or the lawn contractor arrives, or children from neighbouring streets come to ride their bikes.

 

I contemplated waiting until dark but with my eyesight, I’m sure to fall over one of the  cats who live here.   So after the first week, I gave up.

I don’t have an exercise bike and if I walked up and down the room for half an hour a day, I’d l wear out the carpet and I don’t think the landlord would be too pleased.

 I could juggle a few tins of beans but I’m not very proficient and I’m sure to break a toe if I drop one.

There is a theory that the brain can be fooled into thinking you’re exercising.  All you have to do is concentrate on, say, running or leaping over hurdles and you expend as much energy as if you were actually  doing it. 

So from my armchair, with tea and biscuits to hand, I’m now going to run a marathon.