Baby steps

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.

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