I often resist exercise, preferring to get my heart-rate up by clicking on link after blog after tweet about the war on birth control. But right now, moving my body feels less like a chore and more like a privilege than ever before.
It’s like if somebody were to ask, “What about the laundry? Do you do the laundry? Does he ever do the laundry? What if he does the laundry in a way you don’t like? What if you come home and find him doing the laundry when you didn’t know he was going to be doing the laundry? Do you fight about laundry? Have you ever thought about stopping doing laundry altogether, like when you have kids?” Um. No.