Monday, March 7, 2011


I did it.
I finally got out for a run. Somehow I pictured myself running on the day of my 6-week follow-up appointment, when Dr. Arnold cleared me to exercise again. Heck, I even pictured myself cheating and running before that happened, but my schedule just never quite worked out. Until yesterday, when both of my men were sleeping, and I slipped out for a slow, agonizingly wonderful 2.5 miler. Let me just tell you, I'm still sore today, but every time a muscle twinges, I think about how great it felt to be out there again. I'm on the way back!

I imagined myself completely back in shape by now, wearing all my regular clothes, not seeing a pooch for my tummy when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror not sucking in. And Nate's been after me about the way I view myself, telling me I look amazing right now and that maybe my body won't ever be the same. Pregnancy should come with a warning label. Something like:
Don't expect to fit into your favorite jeans again for a loooooooong time. And be ready to cry through entire movies (the most recent being Everybody's Fine, a horribly sad piece of work) and episodes of Secret Millionaire, Extreme Home Makeover, The Biggest Loser, etc.  Prepare yourself to do crazy things like quit your job when you realize that nothing could be more important than raising your babyson. Don't be surprised when you start running on a few hours of sleep at a time and going out in public without a shred of makeup. And remember that every single one of these is completely worth it.

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