Two plus years into this crazy pandemic environment and we’re all still having to deal with Covid variants, sub variants and the continual mischief they create. My family’s taken the whole thing pretty seriously: we’ve all received the vaccines, boosters and have worn masks throughout much of the pandemic. Thankfully we’ve avoided any infections along the way, at least so far, though it seems the odds don’t seem to favor that lucky streak to last forever.
In the meantime, there comes a point when normalcy becomes a priority. I guess that line was crossed a couple of weeks ago when we finally went on a long overdue family vacation down to Amelia Island in Florida, and also when I unfroze my gym membership when we got back after two years on the lamb. Both felt spectacularly liberating, and chronologically it couldn’t have been better timed. After a week of irresponsible eating and drinking like I was heading for the electric chair, despite making a point of burning “insurance calories” by walking four and a half miles on the beach each and every day, I was shocked upon my return when my scale registered four pounds of additional heft. I keep telling myself I’ll learn my lesson one day, but to date I don’t recall that ever happening on a vacation for me. Too many cookies and not enough time. The good news is now there can’t be any excuses for me not to make full use of my gym membership, and I can tell you I’m sore all over after using some unfamiliar muscles these past couple of weeks. With a little luck, I’m hoping to put away my bike trainer for good and am looking forward to jumping on a plane to another fun destination soon …. or at least until the next variant strikes.