Yesterday was supposed to be a running day, but with a show in London, and knowing I'd not be home til midnight, I preserved my energy. So I settled for a bit of yoga, some pilates, meditating in the theatre's quiet space, then stretching on the floor of the green room, as actors are entirely used to the strange behaviour of fellow humans ...
So today was my delayed running day. I got up, did some exercises, got dressed for the run that would follow the school run ... and realised the tank was already nearly empty.
Today feels like the 18 months - 2 years I lived with serious long Covid; the "spoon life" days, when I had to carefully measure out what I was capable of, to the extent of working out what I needed from fridge or cupboard so that I'd make one trip across the kitchen, and save the energy required for the extra few metres that another trip would incur. 🥄
I can/must do pick up from school, but the hour and a half meeting back at school this evening will have to be delegated; the walk down to the high street to collect a parcel will be delayed another day; there'll be no cooking - this is why we freeze meals that can be simply heated up.
I can't run. I can do no more exercises. I can't do the work I really need to do on the next play. I feel like screaming in frustration that I am reduced to this again.
But I'm hoping a day of rest will enable me to bounce back tomorrow. 🤞