08 Feb 2010

R: Since moving into my current living situation, I have basically been inhabiting one open space after another. Not only do I share my bedroom with the living room, but I work in more or less an open office space. I suppose it's better than working in an actual cubicle but still there is something to be said about being able to retreat into a cubby hole and not deal with the constant bursting in of irate community members demanding services "owed" to them.

The problem is, despite being brought up with five other siblings in an intended three bedroom home, I have become used to having a lot of personal space. Over the years, this has turned me into a privacy-whore, and I really need quite a bit of alone time or I get cranky. This means that lately I have been less pleasant than I prefer to be, and I didn't realize how much an enclosed space means to me until today. Thinking how peaceful it was in the kitchen with the light off, I closed the rarely-employed kitchen door and automatically felt years better. This would also explain my recent love of extra extremely long showers.

C: I tried to convince M to take a jaunt with me after work, but after barely two blocks of battling against the wind (walking the other direction only meant a windy uphill battle on the way back), we quickly ducked into a nearby grocery store for warmth. And peanut butter, jelly and bread. I guess some bad habits really do die hard.

The first time I took any non-running form of exercise seriously was in college. Wellesley requires two full semester-long courses of physical education, and I did not take advantage of the "free" classes until Junior Year. By that time I was just beginning to accept the fact that I no longer had the hard-bodied physique of my peak cross-country years. Two years of too many parties, unlimited dining access, and poor overall maintenance had left me...soft, let's say. Give me a break; the winters are not very inviting for a runner seasoned in the South. Two exercise classes later - beginner's pilates and "fitness fusion" (the latter was admittedly for the non-athletic type, as evidenced by my obviously-sedentary peers in the course; my instructor loved me) - and I successfully whipped myself back into shape.

When I made it back home, I resisted all impulses to lay around (okay, okay - so I napped briefly), but I eventually did hit the mat and found a good 45-minute yoga workout on Comcast On Demand. Looks like I earned my child's pose afterall.