Fair warning – this post is really whiny.
Here in Barcelona, we have one of the strictest lockdowns on the planet. All of us were ordered to our residences and only allowed out for very essential services (grocery, pharmacy and short dog walks). We have been couped up in this small apartment for SIX WEEKS. And, we still have at least 2 more weeks to go (or more).
Starting tomorrow, children will finally be allowed outside for short walks with their parents. Kids older than 14 are allowed to walk by themselves. OUTDOOR EXERCISE! YAY! It’s a slow process to return, but I think I am starting to see a little light at the end of the tunnel. I am ready to get back to hiking and enjoying the outdoor activities, even with distancing measures in play. My body is dying to get back to its previous pre-Covid-19 state.
The last six weeks have been an endless buffet. I wake up hungry and literally every 2 hours my stomach growls to eat again. I took up baking, feeling like every meal had to end in dessert. Because I rise fairly early, I slurp down a bowl of cereal upon waking and then eat another protein breakfast when the rest of the family saunters in a couple of hours later. I think about wine or cava around 9:30 in the morning because I think it will help me be creative and productive, but it really just helps me handle the day. So, occasionally, I open the bottle. There’s no judgement here. I crave pasta, bread, pastries, cookies, all of the carbs. And it has taken a toll on my once curvy shape. It didn’t even take that long. Without exercise, I have become a roly poly.
I don’t own a scale but I can tell by my clothes that things have gotten out of hand. My underwear is too tight so I may forego them. My elastic waistband yoga pants have reached their max stretch, so I think I may remove that belt piece giving me a little more breathing room. I even looked on Amazon for slip on shoes because I find it difficult to bend over with this doughnut around my middle to lace up my shoes. Speaking of that middle tire, it now covers the freckle on my leg when I sit down to pee. I use that freckle as a measurement when I need to lose weight. I surpassed my own threshold.
And I am worried. My body doesn’t like to be this heavy. I can’t buy clothes in a bigger size because 1) stores are not open, and 2) the Spanish are tiny framed people. Clothes rarely come in my American sized body. I don’t want to buy bigger clothes. I want to get away from my fridge and small overstocked pantry filled with cookies.
I have even noticed that I am greasier, even though I do not eat fast, junk, or fried food. I have to wash my hair daily. Even my shower towel smells like a bag of potato chips after one use. My face has become slick with sebum, and I wash it twice a day. My adult onset Covid-19 stress acne is out of hand, and my chin makes me look a meth addict. But I can’t tell if the stress of confinement or the 15 year old daughter with adolescent hormones is the culprit. Heck, it is probably a combination of it all since my 45 year old body is also peri-menopausal. I feel a bit fat and a bit unattractive.
And I know I could do exercises on YouTube or Facebook. I know I can take up yoga online. I know I can shop better. I know I can say no to cake. I know I can say no to wine. ←←Maybe I can’t say no wine. But I could make the best of this time inside. Or I could have made the best of this season. I mean, I really thought I would be fluent in Spanish after 6 weeks of down time. I thought I would have virtually visited museums and listened to operas. I thought I would vacuum every day, and join 30-minute workout classes. I thought I would have all my art projects completed and read the entire series of Game of Thrones. I thought I would have been productive. I had the time!…Alas, I am neither fit or constructive.
But tomorrow is a new day. I am healthy and safe, and I live in Barcelona. Why I am so complain-y? I feel with some loosening of the confinement tomorrow, I can venture out a little further on my dog walks. I can accompany my daughter out on her walks. I can get moving a little more each day and start burning off these Covid Calories. Maybe I can turn this ship around…right after this cookie and glass of wine.
Loosely Lucy 