I’ve tried on and off to workout at home. Before kids my sister and I used to do Denise Austin. We were focused, fierce, and always finished feeling sore and sweaty.
When I had my first and second kid, I attempted Jillian Michaels DVDs. Sometimes I even invited neighbors over with their kids, and we’d workout together while the kids played/ran riot in the house. When the kids interrupted our plank I laughed it off instead of freaking out because, well, there were friends there. I had to keep it together.
Fast forward to about April of this year I started @adrienelouise. With kids, working out at home can sometimes be total bedlam. But either I’m zenAF or my standards have stooped so low because these days I actually enjoy working out at home amidst the chaos, noise, and downright mess of it all.
It’s almost like the ultimate challenge.
Here’s a glimpse of my yoga effort today. These days, my goal is to do it each day. “It” is subjective.
Sometimes “it” is wiping someone’s butt when I’m supposed to be peddling out in down dog.
Sometimes “it” is breathing deeply while someone (in extremely close proximity to me) screams loudly that their apple is too mushy.
And sometimes “it” is getting to the namaste part without reacting to my kids.
No matter what “it” looks like, rolling out my mat and showing up for myself is rewarding and strengthening, if not of my core than at least of my character.
