One ton shoes

Why does it seem like my running shoes weigh a ton? Although my body feels better, my mind clearer, and my outlook brighter when I am jogging on a regular basis, why is it that when I go to put on my sports bra, it is stuck to my drawer, unable to be lifted out? When I go to get my shoes out from under my bed, they are too heavy to lift? It doesn't make sense. But it does, in a sense. It has become so much more difficult for me to initiate self-care since becoming a mother. Part of the incentive to get in shape is compromised by the fact that I am no longer in the dating pool, thus do not actually have to look hot in order to attract the male species. Part of my incentive is also compromised by a lack of time: by the time I get home from work, I do not want to leave my one year old again to go for a jog. I ordered a jogging stroller, and noticed to my dismay after putting it together, that it was broken in one area. Now I have to send it back and wait another couple of weeks for the replacement to arrive. Ugh!

But all of these explanations do not offer me solace or lighten my spirits when I go to put on a pair of underware and the elastic cuts into my hips, or I try to put on an old bra, and my surplus boob fat swims over the sides of the material. Let me take this moment to remind myself that in addition to being a mother, I am also a woman. That although I am no longer in the market, I still want to look hot for me (not to mention my husband). And that although every moment away from my little one is a moment missed, I have an opportunity, but more importantly, an obligation, to set an example for her about basic self-care and self-love. Someday she'll be a woman, and I hope by then, her running shoes will be a little lighter than my own.

See you next time you are in Danville!