One of my coworkers is always asking how I’m doing.
While some days seem more glass half empty than others, but in general: it’s getting better.
Proof: Yesterday, I ran.
Sorry, I had to let that sentence stand on its own for a moment, because the runs these days aren’t happening quite as frequently as I hoped they’d be by the three month postpartum mark.
Truth is, it’s been cold and completely winter with a capital W. And then I started to get that scratchy throat and the nose that wouldn’t quit running and yeah. Winter cold that didn’t completely knock me out but just enough to impair me.
So it had been awhile since my last run. And for the past two days I waffled back and forth about attempting to leave the house. Would it make my cold worse? Would it render me completely useless to my family? Because these days I think about these things. The inmates now outnumber the wardens around here. All parenting hands on deck is definitely the preferable situation.
I decided to go for it. I wasn’t heading out for hours. Two miles, I decided. The current temp was hovering around 0°F, but it wasn’t windy. I would survive two miles. Out and back. Easy peasy. Layer on the tights and take some time for yourself.
It had been so long since I’d run in Yaktrax that I almost had to whip out The Google to figure out how to put them on my shoes.
I figured it out, eventually.
I’d also borrowed a jacket from a friend and felt I needed to try it since I’d been carrying it back and forth to work for a week.
The run wasn’t bad, but I’ll be honest: it sure didn’t feel good. Confession: it took me about 24:00 to cover the two miles, which included some walking on the “back” part. The inner dialogue was something like this:
Jeez, Amy. You should just be happy you’re not pregnant. Remember how running was when you were pregnant? The bladder pressure? The stabbing pain in your pelvic floor? At 28 weeks you would have given one of your toes to be running like this. Suck it up.
Oh my god. Why do my legs not want to move? Maybe I will just run to the next stop sign. Maybe I should take a walking break. Jeff Galloway says walking breaks are okay. If Jeff says so, then it must be a good idea. I should just walk since it feels like I’m not moving very fast anyway. God, I probably look like a giant orange pylon, I am moving so slow.
You’re not going to get past this shitty feeling if you don’t get out more than once a week. Duh. You know this. Maybe we need a mantra. How about, “at least I’m not pregnant?” No, too long. Must come up with a good one word mantra.
And after all that, I was home. Phone died about 30 seconds into the run, so no photos mid-run.
I was all set to do some wallowing in crappy run self-pity but remembered that the last time I tried getting out there (granted, the weather was about ten times worse), I made it down about three blocks before I quit out of frustration. So, progress?
Let’s call it that. Also, I’m trying to make better choices when it comes to food. I think I’ve milked the “but I just had a baby” thing long enough when it comes to eating whatever the hell I want.
I have eaten this salad or a variation of it for lunch most days for the past two weeks. Since my level of exercise hasn’t been super high, it’s sufficing on most days. Unfortunately, by the end of the day I’m completely ravenous, so my meal/snack planning needs some refinement. I’m going to have to start eating for energy instead of comfort, because I have a lot to keep up with (see below).
But for the record? We are doing okay. Thanks for asking.