It is time to begin running, and it is fitting that the start of my comeback trail should actually be on a trail. The tiny trail (half mile-ish, I think) that runs through my neighborhood, to be precise. A tiny trail for a tiny comeback? Maybe!
My goal for myself was sustained running. The amount of time wasn’t really important, but after all the walking or walking/jogging I did while pregnant, it was important for me not to walk…or die.
So. Off I went at noon last Wednesday, with Scott at home for lunch to watch the babe. It……was……AWFUL. Ok, so not 100% awful — a very large part of me enjoyed being able to be outside, exercising in the fresh air. However, another very large part of me (everything from the neck on down, to be precise) protested mightily. There was much jiggling of things that were not prone to jiggling before and the things that were accustomed to jiggling stepped up their game to bouncing uncomfortably. It even hurt to breathe…more like I was running a track workout than a very, very slow mile.
I had another chance to run yesterday, and this time I had about 2 minutes of muscle memory before the entire system began shutting down. “Oh, hey! This isn’t so bad! Look at me, I’m a runner! — Oh, no. Ow. Very ow. Oh yeah, I’m slow and out of shape. Just one big ol’ tub of goo. Sigh.”
I know I know I know…it’s going to be a slow process. And if there was ever an excuse to be out of shape, bringing a life into the world has got to be it. Discomfort aside, I am enjoying being able to run once more. Besides that, I am stubbornly refusing to buy new clothes, and the majority of my pre-pregnancy wear no longer fits. If it’s ever going to be time for fitting, this “mega” needs to rebecome a “runr.”