|Playing with other kids' toys is always so much more fun, right?|
I'm not a fast runner. In fact, "runner" may not even be the correct word for me. "Jog-run-jog-walk-er" may be more accurate. And I'm not ashamed of that; the only problem is that if you're not a fast or even decent runner and you're trying to do long lengths, you need time, and lots of it. I had hit eight miles right before my training took a nosedive, which meant a couple of hours of my day was spent just putting a checkmark next to "Run so-and-so miles" on my daily to-do list. I mean, once I'd get the baby settled with a sitter, drive somewhere to run, stretch, actually run, cool down, drive home, and get the report from the babysitter, it seemed that training was the only major event I could fit into my day. Then, in the blink of an eye, my priority became getting the townhouse packed up, finding a rental house and taking E.V. on her first out of town trip. So I allowed myself a few weeks off...which was a mistake because a few weeks became a few months, and here I am, confessing my failure in exercising.
Even after we moved, everything was so crazy and the weather turned too cold to run with E.V. in the stroller, so I gave up on my Thanksgiving half marathon goal. I vowed that I would at least keep exercising on some level, but then the house needed so much attention...and then it was Thanksgiving...and then the start of the holidays...and then Ryan ruptured his achilles tendon...and then it was Christmas...and then New Year's Eve...and here we are. Really I've been itching to get to the gym over the past few weeks, but Ryan literally can't pick up the baby and carry her anywhere, meaning that I've been a pseudo-single-mom for about a month now.
But, Talie, what about that great gym daycare you mentioned before? (Glad you asked.) Before I had Emma Vance, I was so excited because my gym has such wonderful childcare (up to two hours a day included with membership!), but I've been dragging my heels on taking her for the first time. I don't know exactly why--perhaps because you have to make an appointment two days in advance; perhaps because I really wanted Ryan to experience her first time at the gym with me; perhaps because I secretly wish I could just have her next to me while I work out. Regardless of my excuses, even though she was eligible to go to the gym's daycare at three months, I still hadn't taken her even though she's almost seven months old!
Today, though, I took the plunge. I overcame all of those psychological barriers--despite regretting my commitment, I had made today's appointment in advance and was obligated to keep it; Ryan wasn't with us, but I decided to be a big girl and go by myself; and I convinced myself that exercising without E.V. is better than not at all...so we went.
Although I had up to two hours to leave her there, I only made it about 45 minutes (partly because I'm WAY out of shape, partly because I missed her), but the point is that we did it! When I came to pick her up, she was watching TV (not ideal, but I understand), hanging out with some new friends, lounging in a swing. I'm pretty sure she was like, "Mom, have you ever seen such a thing?!? This swing rocks me constantly! It's sooo badass! Can we get one? Please, pretty please? Puh-leeese?" (Don't ask me where she learned the word "badass"--Oscar!) She was so calm and happy; we might be biting the bullet and getting a swing now...
And on the way out, the receptionist told me they had some openings tomorrow--so it's official. Hey, fellow gym goers: I'm baaaack!