It’s been more than three weeks since my son’s primary school term ended and more than three weeks since I last went for a run.
It’s not the world’s worst confession, but lately I’ve found myself looking jealously at joggers, envying them the spare time that allows them to get out.
I’ve only recently come to the eminently sensible conclusion that exercise, school holidays and playing an active family role are not compatible. Before then I would still do just as much around the house as usual and still try and manage as near as possible a normal run schedule, cramming outings in at odd moments.But finally I realised that something had to give if I was to avoid wearing myself out completely. Exercise was it.
Or rather the formal, structured, blessed time-alone-with-my-iPod-shuffle kind of exercise.
The irony is that I’m just as tired at the moment as I would have been had I tried to fit in runs, thanks to the combined impact of a suddenly very active, about to walk any minute, baby, a seven-year old on his school holidays and the usual home life stuff.
But it turns out there can still be exercise in the time of holidays (and apologies for the shoe-horned in Garcia-Marquez pun). It’s just that it takes the form of trampolining sessions or a two-hour visit to the local swimming pool with my seven-year old son, and that can’t be bad.