Gym Rat

I joined a gym this week. This sentence is usually part of a New Year's resolution and is written with a sense of excitement and anticipation. For me, like most things, it's a little more fraught. In my head I am still a twenty year old college athlete. My body, however, ten years and two kids later, says otherwise. And, again like most things, I feel the need to justify it.   

1) I am a runner. That means I run outside, rain, shine, snow, cold, whatever. The gym is for when you're sick or injured, or for lifting. And that lifting has to be serious free-weights, not little two-pound dumbbells and certainly not machines. 

The truth is, I am currently not a runner. I haven't run since last summer when we first got the double jogging stroller, and the reason I haven't run since then is because I went at it too hard too fast. So I need to start with walking, then add in SOME jogging, and maybe eventually I will be a runner again. That largely depends on how my crazy, self-dislocating hips hold up. Another truth is that I have become a huge weather wimp. I don't like it to be too cold, too hot, wet, humid, or pretty much anything other than room temperature. By joining a gym, the weather stops being a excuse not to work out. 

2) Working out with your kids is easy and fun! Pop in a video, do some yoga together, put them in the stroller for a jog! It's so great for them to see you being healthy!

That might work for some people, but it absolutely has not worked for me. I've tried doing a video while Thomas naps in the morning, but he invariably wakes up half way through and cries while I finish the rest of it. Doing yoga with two little people around is IMPOSSIBLE. I could deal with the distraction and not being able to really focus, but I can't handle being in downward dog and one kid is climbing onto my back while the other is trying to pants me. As for the stroller, I prefer not to have them strapped into things for long periods of time if they don't have to be. Lily does like to run with me sometimes, so when it's really nice out again we'll probably go for short runs together and I'll push Thomas. That'll be great. When it's warm. The gym has child care. Cheap, cheap childcare. And if I time things right, I get to take a shower. Alone. It's glorious. 

3) I'm an athlete. That means you have to compete. 

I really like to run races. I'm not competitive in the sense that I want to win, I'm competitive with myself. Faster, farther, better splits, whatever. I try to improve something each time I enter a race. And I will do races again. Just not yet. I did the Monster Dash Half Marathon when Lily was 15 months. Thomas will be almost 2 years old by the time that comes around next fall, and MAYBE I'll be ready to do it. We'll see. It's sort of a flexible goal. While I was walking on the treadmill (at 10% incline doing speed intervals) a 50ish woman hopped on next to me and started jogging. It took all of my self-control to not join in. I want to run. I will run. Just not yet. 

4) I should be taking advantage of my time alone with Thomas while Lily is in pre-school instead of shunting him off onto someone else. 

When Lily was a baby, we did a bunch of baby classes. Baby yoga, baby music, baby art (yes, such a thing exists), story times, baby gym. Everything. But I think that mostly was just an excuse for me to get out of our apartment and interact with other adults. Also, it taught me how to interact with my baby. I honestly had no idea what to do with the tiny person they let me leave the hospital with. For Thomas, I feel absolutely no desire to do those things. We do all of those things, sing silly songs, read baby books together, have a tiny plastic slide, play with a million blocks, all day everyday. Sometimes with Lily, sometimes without. Because we co-sleep he's literally within arms reach of me for 24 hours a day. One hour a day less is not going to make a big difference for him, and it absolutely makes a big difference for me. "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. And happy people just don't kill their husbands (or children)." - Elle Woods, Legally Blonde. And he gets to socialize with other kids. Double bonus. 

So these are things I've had to accept. And after going the past two days, I have to admit it's totally been worth it. I can't wait to go back on Monday and walk a little faster, a little farther.   

The Ugly Truth

Lily called me ugly today. 

It really took me by surprise because we never talk about people or things being ugly. I don't call myself or anyone else ugly. I don't know where she got that from. After I told her that hurt my feelings and we talked about how that's not a nice thing to say, she apologized and skipped away to play with her dolls. I went back to cleaning up from lunch and then I cried because the fact of the matter is she was right. 

I was ugly when I grabbed her arm and yelled at her for pushing Thomas down. Why can't I be more understanding that it's hard to always share?

I was ugly when I snapped at Thomas for yelling because he wasn't getting fed fast enough. Why can't I be more patient, he's just a baby.

I feel ugly when I open my drawer and there's only one pair of pants that doesn't have holes in the knees. Why can't I dress like an adult?

I feel ugly when Joe gets home at 8 and I'm still in sweat pants and a ponytail. Again. Why can't I get my act together?

I feel ugly when I wish I could go back in time for a weekend before we had kids. I want it to be just us again. Sleep in, make breakfast, do a crossword, listen to the radio and actually be able to hear it, think/talk/do NOTHING kid related. Why can't I enjoy my kids as much as I should?

I feel ugly when I think I'm better than this. I have too much education to just be doing this. It seems like such a waste. Why doesn't parenting feel like I'm doing 'enough'?

I feel ugly. There is no sweet turning point to this post. No cute little moral. I just feel ugly.