One of the new rituals I promised to integrate into my life is regular exercise.

I decided my first new ritual would be going to bed even if the chore aren’t done.  Hah.  I live in a village where fireworks go off all night every night for 2 weeks before and 1 week after the 4th.  And J’s been waking up with teething pain.  So that hasn’t worked out as well as I want but I know that if I keep myself in the habit of going to bed when I should it will get better as the next week wears on and J gets through it.  So now that I’ve spent a week on that I’m working on the exercise part.  This is the one I dread.

I’m calling the gym for info Monday.  It’s too hot to run outside here in the summer for long.

But I thought I’d at least try a short run with J in the stroller tonight.  PB was watching Pooh.  We had a few minutes before the landlord came back from town and stopped to pick up my check.  I made it to the stop sign and back in under ten minutes.  It’s about 1/3 of a mile away.  On gravel.  With a stroller.  And it was about 98°.  And when we got back I learned that PB spent the entire 10 minutes screaming that I’d left him behind.

But I did get to break in my new shoes.  And it seemed to help J go to bed with less of a fight.  I’m still going to bite the bullet and join a gym.  I was surprised how just a little bit of working out helped me out last week.  And I know that I need to make myself do this.  Grandma’s agreed to pick the kids up 2x a week so I can stop off on my way home.

I don’t want to spend the money, the time, the effort.  I don’t work out.  It just isn’t me.  I’m always moving, always on the go, even at my desk.  But obviously it isn’t enough real work.  An average preformance level shouldn’t hurt like it did.  And, lets face, I’ll get a few minutes all to myself.  Doing something I hate, but am determined to learn to love.

In high school I had a fitness evaluation for an aerobics class I took to get out of PE.  At 16 I had the body fat compostion and cardo strenght of an olympic athelet.  And now I’m barely average.  Sigh.

Granted, at that time, I have just moved 2,000 feet down in elevation and I didn’t own a car.  Also, I hadn’t been smoking nearly as long.

So I’m gonna make myself do this.  Besides, I just had to face the truth that I really do feel better after sweating and panting for 30 minutes.  Ugh.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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