It’s been nearly two years since I last ran. I used to put on my running shoes and head out the door only to return an hour or so later, sweaty and feeling great. One year after my surgery, it’s time to get my shit together. When better than during the holiday season.
6pm: I set my alarm for 5:30am the next morning
10pm: I checked my alarm one more time before going to bed
10:30pm: Yep! Alarm still properly set.
11pm: Still on track to get up at 5:30.
11:30pm: Maybe I’ll just check it one more time.
12:30am: Yep. Still set for 5:30.
1am: Okay nothing’s changed. I’ll be ready to go in 4 ½ hours.
2am: Whew. I haven’t missed it yet.
2:30am: Oh good. I still have 3 hours left to sleep.
3:30am: I thought I heard it. Lucky I can go back to sleep for another 2 hours.
5:15am: The alarm went off early. “MOM! Is it time to get up?”
5:16am: “No! Go back to bed!”
5:20am: “No! It is still not time to get up!”
5:21am: I turned off my alarm.
5:45am: As quite as a mouse, I got dressed.
5:46am: “MOM! You’re up! I wanna be up!”
5:50am: Nathan was settled on the sofa and I was putting on coffee
6am: Through my closed window of opportunity, I watched Andy get ready for work.
8am: Headed to preschool with a preschooler strapped in the backseat, wearing my still freshly laundered running clothes.
Only 8-hours behind schedule I did it. I ran damn it. It wasn’t pretty. But I did it. I made Henry run with me. Not because I wanted a running companion, but rather to draw attention away from me. Hopefully those passerbyes were distracted by my cool new kicks and my badass dog to even bother thinking “Wow…Huh… Maybe she should take up swimming instead.”