So I’ve started working out this week. I know, just those words alone will make so many shudder away in fear that this will now turn into a sanctimonious fitness blog where I try to sell you things and talk about how great I am.
Fear not, I’m still the overwhelmed, anxiety-ridden mom who can’t manage to say anything great about herself without following it up with a self-deprecating comment. I’m just, like, sweating more.
One area of my vision board and New Year’s resolutions was to focus on fitness again, with the hope of increasing my energy and supporting my own mental health. No explicit goal otherwise – no weight or inches goal, no endurance test, no specific marker of how far I plan on taking it. More like, zero expectations and a plan that I am literally taking day by day. Now that everyone is healthy again, yesterday seemed a good a time as any to get started.
I decided to wake up at 6am, a full hour before my child wakes up to fit it in. Slight tangent, but this is a three-pronged miracle because:
One – my son only recently started sleeping until seven. Seven is the latest he has slept in, the latest I’ve slept in on a regular basis, since he was born. He has been a notoriously early riser – last Winter I was lucky if he stayed asleep until 5:30am. Seven is heaven. The sun is almost up at seven. I can DO seven.
Two – It only recently occurred to me that because of this shift to a far more civilized morning hour, I could actually wake up before him and get a little “me time” without feeling like I’m dying of sleep debt. I have not embraced that thinking whatsoever. Instead, ever the night owl, I have taken to extending my nights, often staying up until midnight reading, then sleeping until he starts calling me by my first name to haul my butt out of bed. Until yesterday.
Three – I have not worked out with concerted, focused effort, since before he was born. Fitness used to be central to my life, to my self-care, to my daily routine. But once my kiddo was born, it was like I gave myself a big ol’ pass to stay sluggish. Sure, I’ve gone on long walks, I ran once (literally one time), and tried fitness classes that didn’t take because I just came up with so many excuses for myself.
You had a baby, your body is different because it housed the MIRACLE OF LIFE.
You had a baby, of course stairs are going to make you breathe hard.
You had a baby, doughnuts are now a food group.
These were legit for awhile there, but if I don’t change this now, this thinking will go on long after the ‘baby’ is in college. Any mom out there who has managed to work out and work and be a mom is my ultimate inspiration.
So here we are, almost three years later. I woke myself up at 545am to start the BBG at-home program. I figure I need an at-home system to start and my sister gave it a hearty endorsement, which is good enough for me. One of my best friends and I are doing this together, across states and timezones as a way of holding each other accountable. Forty-five sweat soaked minutes later, I was done. I did it. I survived. And I felt GREAT. I did terribly for my perfectionist self, barely finishing the circuits and having to pause to breathe every few minutes. But for my not-having-worked-out-in-forever self? I did f-cking fantastic because I did it at all.
When my kiddo woke up, he was confused to find me in shoes and a big smile, when what usually greets him in the morning is a groggy, robe clad mother who cannot speak until she has had her coffee. This mom? Perky, energized, popping in? This is the mom he deserves. It felt so in sync with all this talk I’ve been doing about making changes and improving my daily habits. Action feels so good right now.
Sure, it’s been one day and I’m writing as if this is already my life now, but I kind of hope that’s what this becomes. A habit of daily life. Energized, healthy, grounded. I’m under no delusion that it won’t take work, but as is quickly becoming my 2018 ethos, I’m happy and ready to work.
Today is a cardio day which I can’t do in my house, so instead of waking up early to work out, I woke up early to write and will get the cardio in later today. By spending this little extra time with myself, to tend to these deep needs within myself, I am walking the walk.
Well, I will be once walking is less painful. Leg day, am I right?