i will let you in on a little secret. most mornings the kids are up early and flash gathers them up into their joyous little bundles of wakefulness and takes them downstairs to sleep while i stay in bed, stretch out in whatever direction i want, and sleep alone for a bit. ahhhhhhhhh. (in my defense i have historically handled about 98.7% of the nighttime parenting so this morning lie in is just the way our system works here.)
now remember not to long ago i joined the gym? well, i have found this sunday morning cardio class that i have taken to attending. the class is at 8 in the morning and i am no good without some food, coffee and water before i attend so it means i need to be up early. handily, my kids tend to wake up at that time. so, a little routine has developed in which i am the one who bundles their wakefulness down stairs on sundays and flash has the option of sleeping late(r). i have my breakfast, coffee, and water and then i submit myself up to eve so she can find ways to demolish me.
seriously, this class kicks my – um, bum(?) hardcore. the first time i went i was fairly sure i was going to die about fifteen minutes into it but i keep going back. you know what is crazy? even though my working out is way less consistent than i would like this sunday morning class is getting slightly more manageable. i still want to die at some point but it tends to be a little later on than the fifteen minute mark and a new thing has started to happen — the endorphin rush that comes from a seriously good cardio workout.
i wait patiently for it to come. i know, during the “uh oh i am dying” moment that if i keep at it the next thing will be the calm lift into “i feel good. i am strong.” well you know, if you have felt this (also sometimes called runner’s high) that it is good stuff and words are not doing it justice.
so i get up early, i go the gym, i push myself to my limit, i survive and i come home to listen to flash tease me about my red face.
the strangest thing is happening. this little routine that started out for me as some kind of self induced torture is becoming my favorite day of the week. it is not getting easy by any stretch of my imagination but darn if i haven’t come to feel my best on sundays.
hold on a second, i think even on sunday i might be having fun. sneaky sneaky universe.
I am hanging out to do something like this….I am thinking of a yoga class or something…anything actually. My hubby has been working away until just a few days ago so I have had no support to do a class or even get a sleep in! Hopefully now he is home things will start to change as soon as the little-one gets used to him again
my husband also travels a lot for work so i totally hear you. that is another reason my working out is less consistent than i might like…but, i am trying to be happy with what i get in instead of wishing for more.