Exercise brings me pleasure.  I feel better when I exercise—like I've accomplished something that I know is good for my body and my soul.  I like to sweat and see the accomplishment soak into my clothes.  I like to take a shower and feel clean again.  This practice motivates me, refreshes me, relaxes me.  Exercise is the one constant I'd like in my life.  I don't always get it, though—at least on my terms.  But then I have high expectations.

I bought a jog stroller recently.  I had a grand plan to take Joey to preschool and then come home and walk the hills in my neighborhood with Danny in the stroller.  He liked his cousin Jordan's jog stroller and he sat peacefully in the cozy seat.  So I bought him his very own, navy blue, cozy stroller.  And he refuses to sit in it.  He wiggles and whines and chants "wanna walk."  So plan B is to come home and walk on my treadmill—while Danny plays and I watch him.  I am not sure what plan C will be.

This has been my saga for four years—ever since I became a mom and realized my time was no longer my own.   I'm not good about exercising in the evening so my routine usually involves kids, during the day.   And my routine has changed so many times.  I once exercised while Joey napped.  Then he stopped napping.  Then I'd push him in a stroller.  Sometimes, he would cooperate and sometimes, he would not.  I tried going to a gym and leaving Joey in the childcare area.  He cried the entire time.  For a while after Danny was born, I would exercise while Joey played and Danny slept.  And for a long time, I'd push them together in a double stroller.  Now Joey is too big for the double stroller.   And Danny doesn't seem to like strollers at all.

Since cancer arrived in my life, exercise has not been a priority—I just could not physically do it.  But for the past two weeks,  I have been walking while Danny naps and Joey watches a 30-minute library video.  While he learns about snakes and alligators, I sweat and hope like crazy that I can finish before he becomes impatient.  It works for now.  But everything changes and this will not last forever.

I am not sure what my long-term exercise plan will be.  I guess I have to think in the short term, lower my expectations, and try to do what I can each day.  This is hard for me—I like a plan and a routine and somehow, motherhood (and cancer) don't always allow for structure.  

I just finished walking on my treadmill—three miles.  Danny is napping and John and Joey are at the movies.  That works—for today.