About two months ago I began my quest to get into better shape and to establish an exercise routine.
I am a stay-at-home-mom to two girls, and my husband works 12-hour alternating shifts. There’s nothing routine about our life. I had to find a work out routine that fit into our ever changing schedule and I was introduced to a series of at home work outs that I could easily fit into nap time. I would skip the in-between cardio work out days though, as I had absolutely no desire to do that – I have always thought people who run must be crazy.
It’s hard to pin down exactly why I decided to give running a try, but I did. Maybe it was the guilt that had finally set in from skipping out on half of my work out regime. On a rare cloudy afternoon, in the middle of our warm Colorado summer, I gave it a shot. With the encouragement of my mom and her presence to watch my girls, I stepped out the front door.
Something happened on that run, something I hadn’t expected. I enjoyed it. I loved the fact that I was getting to exercise and accomplishing my goal of living a healthier life style. It was wonderful.
The real take away was that I had time to myself. Something I hadn’t anticipated being such a freeing experience. It was a precious thirty minutes to think about just running, not filling sippy cups, and listening to music that didn’t include itsy-bitsy spider or e-i-e-i-o!
For the past few months I have had a rather difficult time with the arguing that’s happening between my girls. Not only that, but their constant needs from the time they wake up until they go to sleep has taken a toll on me. My goal is to raise children who know how to solve problems without yelling and crying. I’m realizing this is a “marathon goal” and it will include many hours of training. I signed up to be a mom, I know what that includes. That doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s hard and sometimes I need a break. I’ve been craving time to just breathe. Literally at times taking deep breaths had been hard for me (I have a feeling this would be classified as a form of anxiety). This was and is frustrating for me and I don’t want to have these frustrations take a physical toll on my body.
While I ran all of that melted away; I could breathe. I came back to my house rejuvenated and ready to hand over my heart and energy to my girls again.
The joys, dreams, and hopes I have for my children are my number one priority. I’m realizing that in order for those high hopes to come to fruition, I have to remember that taking care of me comes first. If I can do that, then I can take care of them and be the mom I want to be. I would have never thought running would provide this outlet for me, but it has.
