mothers on the verge

Does anyone hate exercise as much as I do? While not calling myself a couch potato, if I have to think about exercising it's not going to happen. Living in New York means that I exercise just by going outside. Picking the Rabbit up from school and walking her home is already a 20-25 minute walk. And considering I'm always late I practically run to the school -- more aerobic exercise for me! But if it means I have to go to a studio, a workout room, or please -- a class? -- it's not going to happen. I've tried yoga classes which I love. But working from a home office, when I have a hard fast stop time in the middle of my day (it's called a child) means I am very reluctant to don the workout clothes, walk to a class, come home, shower and restart. That's 2 hours out of my day -- and honestly? I don't feel I have that. Yes, I have tapes, and barbells, and those stretching bands that I'm supposed to use for resistance. And no I don't run ever since ...

I recently started taking a yoga class again -- hello body. Remember me? My reluctance in the past was tied to having to travel anywhere -- time I felt cut severely into my already compressed work day. But then my neighbor introduced me to a studio down the street - an 8 minute walk each way. I can handle that. But here's the main time problem -- the 30 minutes before class I spend primping. No, I am not trying to spruce up for the teacher (a woman) nor the few people "ommm"-ing with me. What happens is more like this: 1. Find yoga pants. Put them on. 2. Become aware that I haven't shaved legs since last week's class. 3. Shave. 4. Nick myself. 5. Try to staunch bleeding without leaving little red bumps on legs. 6. Fail. 7. Notice red nail polish chipped on toes. 8. Remove polish. 9. See stains on toes left. 10. Try to re-polish quickly. 11. Fail. 12. Sigh and try to ignore. 13. Spot hideous callous on heels. 14. Try, unsuccessfully, to scrub said callouses in 30 s...