Adventures in Exercise

I think I need to throw this bag of truffles into the trash. I sort of indicated that I was going to stop eating so many truffles after the holidays, didn't I? I do apologize for misleading you.

But! It's okay, because I actually went out for a run today. Well, a walk/run. And there may have been more walking than I'd care to admit. But, still! I went. And it was quite the ordeal, but I went anyway. Mainly because I have a little friendly wager going on with Cheryl, and whoever runs three times a week, ten times, first, gets a Starbucks card. I just envisioned lattes while I was panting along. There were a few reasons it was such a chore making this run happen today.And they are as follows:

My toddler's sleep schedule, otherwise known as OMGWTF?

We are still trying to undo the damage the holidays did to Charlotte's very delicate ability to sleep like a normal person. We live very close to both our families, plus we had family visiting from out of town. Between seeing everyone, shopping, family outings, etc. she kind of just napped when she napped, if at all, and bedtimes got later and later. It was very stressful, and ultimately resulted in what we have now, which is an almost-two-year-old who goes to bed around ten, sleeps in till nine, and naps late in the afternoon.

In trying to undo some of this damage, I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make her nap earlier. I'll spare you the boring details, but it was looking like she was finally going to sleep, but not early enough that I would have time to run before it got dark when she woke up. So, when she fought through that last attempt, I threw up my hands, made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and strapped her into the jogging stroller. If she wants to stay up, we're doing what *I* want to do.

The Wind

I live in the desert, and one of the many fun weather patterns, besides crippling heat and frigid (to us, anyway) lows, is the wind. It's intense. Case in point: my friend bought her daughter a trampoline for Christmas. and a few days later the wind blew it up over a wall and into the neighbor's yard, effectively destroying it. When we were kids and lived in a more remote part of the desert, my sister and I would walk down the street to our friends' house where the four of us would each collect a tumbleweed, place them in the middle of the street, then let go and run away as the wind blew them down the road. Good, clean, hick fun!

So, after bundling Charlotte, handing her her cookies, and venturing out of the garage, it should not have come as a surprise to me that I was punched in the face by an icy wind. But that sort of thing tends to surprise you no matter how many tumbleweeds you've ran from or how many times you got a brush stuck in your windblown hair.

I thought for a moment that this was an ill-fated trip, and that we would have to go home. But, then I remembered that the jogging path is nestled in between two hills and might be sheltered somewhat from the blasts. So, we set out, another obstacle narrowly dodged.

My Toddler

This isn't really her fault. But, when we got to a certain part of the trail, where it widens and there's loads of grass just waiting to be frolicked upon, she was pretty much over sitting in the stroller, munching on dry animal crackers, and requested to "Run, run, run." And, I couldn't exactly blame her. So, there was sort of a lull in my workout as Charlotte ran around getting her exercise, falling on her face, getting consoled, and picking up sticks. But, I'd like to think I made up for that lull by pushing her home against the wind.

My (lack of) Stamina

I know this will change. I know I will get stronger and faster, and my lungs will no longer ache and throb after mere moments of jogging but damn is it uncomfortable in the meantime.

So, there you have it. A suburban SAHM goes for a jog. Riveting, no?

What Sad People Dream About

I have this fantasy. It doesn't involve riding over a rainbow on a unicorn, or anything like that, but it does seem just as impossible. It goes something like this:

I wake up early in the morning while everyone is still sleeping. I glide out of my bed and into my running shoes. I slap my iPod into one of those arm band holders and cue up a playlist filled with upbeat and motivating, and yet, still GOOD, music. I start the coffee maker so that I am greeted by the aroma of my breakfast blend upon my return, and I head out the door.

I walk out my front door and stretch my legs out for a few minutes before I begin my brisk walk to the gate of my apartment complex. There is a very steep hill that must be surmounted before I reach the jogging trail; I do this with little effort, and it gets my heart rate up.

Once I begin my run, I feel peaceful. The adrenaline and the awesome tunes take over, and I hardly notice my feet pounding the cement or how hard I'm breathing. The endorphins kick in, and I feel...happy.

Here's how it really goes: I don't wake up before everyone else. I wake up at 6:30 to the sound of Charlotte crying for me. I could throw her in the jogging stroller, but we're both pretty cranky, so we usually watch a little "teebee." Then I have to feed her breakfast. So, I eat, too. Okay, NOW I could strap her into the jogging stroller and at least go for a walk, but, well, I just ate, didn't I? And I need to go to the store for pickles. I need pickles right away! No time for a jog. Besides, Charlotte would probably just start demanding Milk! and Raisins! and Binkies! and Bunny! And I would spend so much time hunching over the side of the stroller, I wouldn't get very far.

Now let's say I did get to go for that jog, with or without Charlotte. How it would actually go down is that I would walk up that hill, survey the jogging trail in front of me, remember how good that coffee smelled, turn around, and limp home.

Because, let's face it: I didn't always have a kid waking me up before the sun comes up and whining from her stroller. But, the reasons behind my inability to make this dream a reality go beyond my general laziness and the fact that getting up earlier than I needed to to haul my ass around the neighborhood just seemed like the stupidest idea ever when my alarm was going off.

For some reason, I've always really fancied myself a potential runner. I like the sound of it: "I'm going for a run." I've always wanted to be more athletic than I really am. I enjoy being active, outdoorsy stuff, but my body has never really taken to exercise the way I thought it was supposed to.

I played sports as a kid. Most relevant to this discussion were basketball and soccer. LOTS o' running in those sports. And, even as a healthy kid who played outside, participated in P.E., and partook in the drills and sprints required of me at every practice, I always felt like I was going to die a thousand deaths whenever I had to run for any length of time. Tiny daggers were piercing my lungs over and over again. My mouth would instantly go dry and hot. My legs would feel heavy. And my skin itched all over.

Not much has changed after all these years. And, yes, I know that you want to tell me it will get easier after a while. I have to work my way up to the place where I can run without hyperventilating and passing out. And you would be right. But, getting to that place seems so unattainable most days.

I think I (mostly) have the maturity and drive I need to work on this, but I need a realistic plan. Going without Charlotte is not likely, neither is going first thing in the morning. And, is it messed up to make her sit in a jogging stroller several times a week for a half hour or more? I mean, I'll make sure she gets her exercise, too, but even still. Am I being selfish? I have considered giving the gym one last try before I cancel my membership, but Charlotte has never done very well in the daycare center. Maybe now that she's a bit more social, I'll try again.

I don't know. I don't know why my blog is turning into an advice column starring, YOU! The reader! Apparently I need a place where people can tell me how to run my life. Or, maybe I'm just too tired and mystified by my kid's flat out refusal of bedtime lately to write anything more coherent. But, at least I'm posting every day? Go...me?