Yesterday I told the tale of getting back out on the pond with my boys for our first outdoor skate of the year. I spent 2-1/2 hours shoveling, skating and playing hockey with the boys. It. Was. Glorious.
I did it, for that length of time, in the full expectation that Sunday was going to be a day of complete non-functionality for me.
I mean, I haven’t been exercising often enough, or hard enough, to expect that 2-1/2 hours of vigorously beating the crap out of my decaying carcass would end in anything other than pain.
Well, I suppose from the headline you already have. The recovery didn’t suck. In fact, I was able to get back out on the pond with kid #3 for another hour and a half. An hour and a half that included shoveling a skating rink onto the surface of another pond.
Turns out the little goof wanted an adventure, to try skating on a new pond, so we went a little farther into the woods. Which was fun, but required another hour of shoveling.
So, here I am, after 2 years of gym closures, lockdowns, arena closures, bouts of depression and all the crap we’ve been through, and I still have a little life left in the old body.
I guess what I’ve advocated for years; regular, vigorous exercise as one of the cornerstones of good health, really works.