DAY 46: MY BODY IS (NOT) CHANGING

Andrea 46 – My body changing: from day 1 to day 40. The progressive change of my lifestyle has had consequences even on my body. “My body changing, in shape and colour”, sang Piero Pelù in the summer of 1999, the one of our high school diploma. My body that has changed, in shape and colour, in the first forties of the quarantine. In the shape, made softer by a bland, disorganized and adapting at home workout. In the paler colour of a face that used to sunbathe only in a few coffee breaks, stealing a corner from a balcony not really exposed to light. In the shape and colour, in transformation, Pelù continued. Transforming the hands, affected by and allergy to latex gloves, necessary for going out, but also for doing house cleaning. My body that changes, indeed used to change, because after 40 days it too understood that it didn’t have to wait for something to come back, that the new life was already here and it was a long transition phase. Thus, my body that changes and changes again. After 40 days it starts to come back the way it was: allergy becomes hardening, I find methods and medicines in the pre Covid house and it heals. My body is no longer transforming. I realized I can exploit the sun better, working from the corner of the balcony, enjoying it as much as I can, even in the morning. My body is no longer changing in colour. I’m beginning to find my best shape again: I set and started using the exercise bike and the elastic cords. The at home workout is more settled. My body (doesn’t) change (anymore), (nor) in shape, (nor) in colour.

Miriam 46– Post Easter has always meant only one thing to me, which imposed itself in my daily life with the force of a cyclone: diet. After the last Easter eggs swallowed with guilty gluttony, sugar would give way to salads and roast chicken, spelt and vegetables, squats and abs. My body would suffer because of it, but my mind would encourage it pushing me to book, as if to motivate me, the summer holidays during these days.

In this anomalous April, in which everything is a change in immobility, a desire of the outside by staying inside, a need for balance in discrepancies, I choose, probably without even realizing it, from time to time new priorities to ensure the survival of my body and my mind. While grocery shopping during the first assaults of the supermarkets, I used to stock bare necessities, mindful of the fact that with enough flour and yeast, home survival was guaranteed. Then, as the days went by, the priorities started to change, and so did my purchases. In my fortnightly shopping trolleys, comfort food started to appear, chocolate, wine, beer, chips. Under stress, my mind asked for support from my body. And the body gave in. because for my “mens” to be “sana”, my “corpore” had to be satisfied. Now, on the forty-sixth day of quarantine, I feel tired and heavy, in my body and my mind. And I realize how much my desire to train was directly proportional to the new bikini I bought online with the first hints of spring.