Before I had a baby, I would say, “I’m going for a run” and hit the road with my hair in a high swinging pony tail and my perky breasts nestled in a sports bra under my Nike sports top. My long, tan legs would settle into a pace that was familiar and I would feel that “runners high” settle over me.
Ok, that whole paragraph you just read…..it was a lie. Lie sounds harsh, so I’ll to call it a dream. I have always looked at runners with an envious eye. It just sounds so cool to “go for a run”.
I am not a runner. I’m not saying I couldn’t become a runner (like if a lion was chasing me. Or a bear. Or a ninja.) But I’m not built to run. My legs are short and I don’t think I have never “nestled” myself into a top. Corralled, strapped down or locked and loaded, yes. But not nestled.
Now I’m not saying I don’t think exercise is important. Almost every day during one of Ty’s naps, I put on an old “Walk Away the Pounds” DVD and walk three miles while I watch TV. I don’t work out hard. I don’t push myself physically. I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m happy to let myself off the hook.
Maybe one day I’ll become a runner, maybe I won’t. But for now I’m not going to worry about it.
|Walking Away the Pounds!|