Workit. Doit. Cleanit.

by Cheng-Ling Chen — October 26, 2007

I open all the windows in the house and spend the next hour and forty-seven minutes cleaning. If I had a webcam sending images of my activities to your computer, you would see a mad woman on a mission. She resembles the road runner, except with sweat pants, an old T-shirt, and blue rubber gloves on. I dust and scrub, vacuum and run two loads of laundry. I take out the trash, hose down our kitty's litter box, and water the houseplants.

More than once, I mutter to myself (particularly while bent over the toilet, scouring), wouldn't it be nice if I could get someone else to clean my house?

When I finish, I plop down on the couch and drink a tall glass of water. I survey my sparkling house with satisfaction and inhale a breath of fresh air scented lightly by the lavender plant on the patio. When I take stock of my schedule, I see that with the time lost to cleaning, I have no time for a workout later. I am too wiped out anyway.

Then it occurs to me, I've already done my exercise for the day. All that cleaning got my heart pumping. I am sweating through my T-shirt, and my arms have that tingly feeling that forecasts tomorrow's soreness.

Maybe instead of dreading cleaning day, I should start scheduling it in as part of my workout routine. On top of that, I should charge those who reap the benefits of this particular workout (namely my housemate aka husband), with buying me the exercise equipment I need. Not weights or running shoes or yoga pants, but a good pair of gloves to protect my hands, some eco-friendly cleaning agents, and oh yes, a massage now and then.

How's he going to say no to that?