I was expecting the shift from one kid to two to be epic. A shit storm, really, since that’s exactly how the transition from none to one went. But Lucy slid into our family as though she had always been here. Eliza isn’t jealous (much), no one is sleeping (much) less and my relationships haven’t fallen apart (too much). But, holy shit is it impossible to get anything done!
These past few months have been an experiment to see what I can tolerate, what I need and how I can make things happen. So much of my mental health depends on exercising, but I have nearly lost my drive to make that happen. Luckily I teach 5 fitness classes a week, so I’m guaranteed to get my heart rate up there. And I took a few weeks to see how I felt just taking long walks instead of hitting the gym in a more focused way those other days. NOPE. I need the running and I need the strength training. So I’ve hit a compromise: 4 days a week I work out. Two of those days I teach: Sundays two Spinning classes and Tuesdays a Spinning class and two strength classes. Thursdays I have my sitter stay a little longer and I hit the gym for a quick and intense circuit. And Saturdays I bolt out the door before seeing clients for a run. I’d honestly rather skip the Thursdays and Saturdays and hang with Lucy. Some days the workouts are just hard and I’m not focused at all. But those 4 days spent exercising seem to be the lynch pin in my sanity. And in my fitness. I’m already starting to get back into enjoying it for itself. I’m happy when I beat my time on the same route the next week. I’m excited to do my first race post baby (Turkey Trot!) and I’m learning to be okay with this. It’s not an ideal schedule: I wish I could be with my baby all the time and also wish I could do 3 runs a week plus some yoga. I wish my stomach didn’t still look like a human recently exited, but a human DID recently exit and I’m learning to be patient. This is only how it is right now. And it’s okay for now.