Have you ever been scared of physical exercise?
Like – legit scared in the sense that every fiber of your being knows you’re at serious risk of perishing on the spot? I have. I am. I currently feel the iron fist of death terror clamp around my heart. Has anyone seen my over-acting-drama OSCAR anywhere?
Still – now that we’re officially allowed to exercise outside again (in groups of 4, adhering to the social distance rules) – the time has come to venture out onto the softball pitch again. AKA: we’re planning on a training Monday night. And I’m terrified. Honest to god freaked out terrified.
Because let me be honest: Ever since the new lockdown (aka, somewhere around October) I have done pretty much NOTHING that would officially count as exercise. Sure, there’s been some sexercising –winkwinknudgenudge– and I HAVE pokewalked/skated a couple of laps…
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