The class was exhausting, and it felt weird to be doing that level of exercise in our kitchen
My quest to retain some level of fitness during isolation is being repeatedly undermined by my appetite. The days feel 43 hours long, and I am endlessly bored. Just yesterday, I went through our treat cupboard and found a two-year-old packet of flying saucers nobody wanted. I hoovered them up as if I were auditioning for Oliver Twist. I cannot concentrate when we are watching television because I am internally debating which breakfast cereal I am going to have as a late-night snack, while also weighing up whether I can be bothered to go and get it.
I don’t foresee these eating habits changing any time soon, which means it has become imperative that I maintain an exercise regime. I tried jogging, and almost immediately decided it is for people who hate themselves. Then my wife suggested we do a Zoom fitness class.
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