One Minute Alone
Since the Garden women have yearned for time alone. Adam’s rib was removed to create a separate individual, not a homing device. Meaning if Eve needed to use the bathroom, Adam had to find something else to do. Why is it so hard to find one minute alone?
I tried this morning. Literally. It was Day 9 in my 30-Day Plank Challenge. Planks, as you may know, require forcing one’s body into a gravity-defying position several inches above the ground and holding it for an excruciatingly long time, which increases daily. Day 9--one minute. (I have nothing to say in my defense. The single-digit cold this month has made me insane.)
My husband was downstairs involved in his morning ritual. (I knew it was safe to begin when the smell of burnt toast wafted up the stairs.) I stretched, prayed and set my timer. Up went my entire body, supported only by toes and forearms; eyes closed to avoid watching the slower-than-molasses-in-January seconds tick past. My muscles began trembling under the pressure and I think the entire house started to shake. Just then, I heard my husband’s foot on the stair...he was coming up! What? He never comes back up! I go to a great deal of trouble to hide these disturbing exercise positions. He was about to open the door.
“Don’t come in here!”, I screeched.
Even he can be intuitive sometimes. “Not even on a bet”, he said, backing away.
But it was too late. With 15 seconds left I tried to regain my concentration and finish one minute of exercise. I willed my body to stay aloft. With a final shudder I crashed to the floor seconds before the timer went off.
One minute. It’s all I needed. One tiny, 60-second minute. Why is alone time so elusive to us women? Did we do something wrong? Babies actually fasten themselves to us. Toddlers need constant supervision or they’ll jam the disposal with spoons or blind the cat with orange juice. Children have to be cared for all the time, including teenagers. You worry about them at school, on a date, at their job; failing classes, getting pregnant, embezzling. After the nest empties, men require as much attention under their 42 Regulars as a 7-year-old. With bigger laundry.
I suppose I should be grateful for a husband who wants to be around me. It’s not like I’m training for a triathlon and continued attempts at defying gravity could be dangerous. At this point in my life, what would I even do with one minute alone? End hunger? Banish handguns? Read an email? Exercise is out, that’s for sure. Maybe I’ll get a paper route.