Man, I miss running.
I miss the feel of the wind smacking my face. I miss the thud-thud-thud of my footsteps, which usually morphed into plod-plod-plod by the end of my run.
I miss the feeling of pushing my body. Oh, and the warmth of the post-run glow….how I eagerly await you!
The only thing missing is getting my ass out there. The first step truely is the hardest, I’m discovering. As a new mom, the first step doesn’t come until my ducks are lined up. My ducks include:
-waiting on my new, mega ultra strong sports bra from Moving Comfort (hope it fits AND it works for my ladies)
-digging out a somewhat respectable running outfit (look like a runner, become a runner)
-pump my ladies until they shrink a cup or two sizes (before jammin them into new sports bra)
-packing the baby in the jogger
The last one makes me smile. I don’t like to run with others (aside from races) because I don’t like to talk when running and I get self-conscious about all my moving body parts and heavy breathing. But, in Marie’s case, I will definitely be making an exception. How will my daughter grow up to become the woman I want to raise if she doesn’t understand that you have to work hard and dig deep into yourself to achieve your goals, if I don’t show her how?
And I thought the first step was the hardest.