running is hard.

It’s not pretty when I do it either.

 

The thing is, it’s a fantastically convenient form of exercise for a mom and toddler. Lucinda goes in her BOB stroller, I lace up my shoes, and we’re off. No excuses.

Sometimes, if this one isn’t acting a fool, she comes with us.

Now, I’m not running marathons or breaking speed records, in fact, it’s probably generous calling what I do running at all. My runs  always start off stiff and painful, grinding out each step and pushing myself to keep going just one more block, but somewhere about halfway through I stop thinking about the act of running and more about how good it feels to let my heart pump and gasp breathe fresh air. Since I started running again a couple months ago I just feel generally better; less guilty about not always eating well, more energetic, and more connected to my body instead of mad at it. So, if you see me around town, red faced and cursing quietly so as not to wake the baby while stumbling up hill, don’t laugh (at least not loud enough for me to hear!) Wave hello and cheer me on!

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