I swam in our pool yesterday.

Every time I do, I ask myself, why don’t I do this every day?

I love to swim. I love the sensation of buoyancy, of weightlessness. Using all my muscles releases endorphins. The glow of well-being infiltrates all my cells. Seeing the yard from ground level fills me with gratitude for all the trees and flowering bushes encircling our backyard.

So why don’t I do this every day, weather permitting, since the pool is right here, and I live in a state where it’s always sunny and warm enough to swim from April through September?

Laziness. I don’t want to wriggle into my bathing suit. I don’t want to have to take a second shower afterward. (My hair is uncombable when under the influence of chlorine.)

Two of my grown kids come over sometimes to swim. But I think altogether the pool’s been occupied maybe a dozen times this year. And I maintain the pool every few days to keep the water sparkly. A fair amount of time and money go into the pool year-round for it being used the equivalent of less than two weeks.

But it’s not just the pool.

The grand piano in my living room has been virtually silent since the beginning of the pandemic. When I retired from teaching in 2014, I played for an hour most days until March of 2020, when Greg had that disastrous surgery from which he never really recovered. My life instantly became very fragmented, in that Greg often needs my help completing everyday tasks. By evening, when I used to play piano, I don’t have much energy left. I miss it, especially when I hear piano music. It makes my fingers itch to play, but I just don’t.

I was in good physical condition in 2019, because in preparation for a trip to Israel (which never happened, because Greg and I both had health crises that year) I walked almost every morning and hiked most weeks. I know walking is good for me, and I hope I can get back to doing it when the weather cools down, but I haven’t done it regularly in six years.

And I’m overweight. I know why—I eat too much. I enjoy eating. I like good foods, but I also like sweets and snack foods. I know if I replaced my empty carbs with vegetables, I would lose some of this weight, but I don’t. My behavior is clearly self-destructive. I know better, but can’t make myself do what’s healthy. I guess I haven’t hit rock bottom yet.

I’m sorry. Here I am whining. I promise I’ll do better.