After BCV2 In 2016 I'd lost my job and couldn't work. I was also emotionally, physically and financially screwed. Living in Bum Fuck West was not helpful when it comes to finding help for the above conditions.
My breast care nurse got me a 'pity pass' to the closest YMCA. I think that could have saved my life. Unable to afford or access physio, rehab, counselling etc, dragging my sorry arse into the gym a few days a week gave me purpose and helped me heal. I didn't care what I did as long as I could put earplugs in if anyone was yelling at me. It was passively social as well.
COVID, strangely, jettisoned me into back into the full time workforce. I can't get to the gym anymore and haven't had a swim since Feb 2020. I so miss it. My weekly commute is nearly 600 now which doesn't leave much time at either end of the day, hey? So I get up at 4 am, walk myself 8 km then walk The Hound for half an hour.
It's up to her how much time she spends sniffing, pIssing and shitting. Maybe she gets more value from that than walking for the sake of it? I can't apply the same philosophy to my difficult body. She has a better time than I do.
Do the best you can, and don't stop unless you physically can't continue. Walk if you can't run. Whatever you can do is better then nothing. Mxx