Making Time For Me: April


I kind of forgot about my new year's resolution this month, until I was writing up last Wednesday's post. Oh ya, I would likely feel less like I'd lost myself if I'd remembered to make time for myself.

It's hard to remember to do that when in public I'm forced to spend most of my time talking about this 54% of a human, while the 100% of me that still does most of what I've always done all while growing a baby becomes practically invisible or at least significantly less interesting (or reduced to simply a vessel with no intellectual value when dealing with people who just point and giggle at the belly whenever I'm trying to explain something to them).

But at the end of the day, I can't control what others say or do but I can control what I do.

Last Sunday was a rough day where I spent most of it in tears (and not just hormone-fueled mood-swing tears). I figured a good night sleep was what I'd need to pull myself out of it. But I woke up Monday feeling no better. I skipped my coffee break that day because I didn't want to pass my bad mood onto anyone else, or have them say or do something that made me feel any worse. By lunch, I wanted to retreat away from everyone. The closest you can do that in an open concept office in a downtown public campus is to go to the gym. At least on a treadmill, I can put on my earphones and pretend no one is staring at the belly bouncing up and down with each step (do bellies bounce? I don't know).

The more I ran, the better I felt. The better I felt, the better I ran. And by the end of my mile (which was even a decent time, considering the lack of training I've been doing, and the extra 16 pounds I'm carrying), I was smiling. Sure, the baby was very hard to ignore as I ran (she likes to use my bladder as her own personal treadmill), and yes, there are physical benefits for her when I exercise, but it was my legs carrying me the distance that mattered in that moment.

I made it to the gym three times last week, a record since getting pregnant. Not all trips were as successful -- no available treadmills on one day, my body just refusing to let me run on another -- but I stayed the course each day, because those 60 minutes? Those are all mine.
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