I love to sweat. I do. At appropriate times. Like when I’m working out, not at a wedding. Well, unless I’m sweating the marriage, like maybe yours. (Kidding.) (Am I?) In fact, I’m sweating right now, sitting on the edge of my seat and away from the keyboard so as not to ruin anything (tmi?). Because I’m on “vacation” I went for a run, at 3:23 in the afternoon. Just like that. I can do those things when I’m kid-free.

It’s 4:04 and I’m already done. I was done 10 minutes ago. I have no grandiose plans to train for anything or to ever run a marathon or even a half marathon. I am not a fast runner. I have a some endurance, I could probably run for about an hour before my legs crumpled under me like a beer can on a frat guy’s forehead.

I picked up running again after toying with it off and on for the past couple of years because I am sick and tired of complaining about the last five pounds of baby weight and I know you’re all sick and tired of me complaining about it too. Maybe you say I look fine. Maybe you say I had two kids, I should be happy I don’t look worse. But I don’t think I look fine. And I don’t think it’s okay to be happy with “well I could be worse.”

The fact of the matter is, I WILL NOT LET THOSE TWO LITTLE BASTARDS BEAT ME. And by those two bastards, I mean my darling children. I refuse to throw in the towel. I am not a quitter. I might put things down for a while but only because I am always doing so many things.

Well la-ti-da you might be saying to yourself. But I’m not telling you these things because I want any kind of medal. I’m telling you because this is who I am. I will not quit. Even if the doctor says take six weeks before you exercise after having a baby, I say screw you, I’m going to take one. I have always been this way. That’s why I became a group fitness instructor. I don’t want to be told how to exercise, so I became the teacher so I can tell YOU what to do. And I love it.

But back to the running. I took up running first in high school as a freshman on the track team. I failed to make the volleyball or fast-pitch softball teams. So I went to track because I’d always played sports in grade school and the track team took everyone. I was awful. I did the workouts but hated them. I competed in meets but lost every time. I remember my shining moment when I almost didn’t lose by like half a second.

After that I went off track (and all sports) for a few years and delved into the odd world of high school musicals (let’s save that for another time). By college the freshman 15+ had found me and by sophomore year I was tired of being the dorm’s chubby funny girl. I had run once before right, and by God I could do it again. So I started running and discovered that this time around, I still completely loathed and yet sort of enjoyed it.

I continued to run through college and into the first year out of school, when I worked full time and waited tables at night because my full-time journalism job paid dick. I worked like a dog all week so I could have my weekends off to see Jay, who was still at OU at the time. The weekends were spent eating and drinking and the weeks spent loathing my jobs. I once again got gushy and needed to do something about it so I took up Spinning, and later became an instructor.

So Jay graduates, we move in together, we get hitched, we move, we have kids, yadda, yadda, yadda (generic suburban life ensues). During that time, there were years I taught Spinning so much that there was no time for running. My legs couldn’t take it. So again it went by the wayside. I’d run once in a while on the treadmill in our basement but never for long. Here and there I’d run a 5k (and never came in last!) but nothing serious.

And I won’t go so far as to say I’m serious about it now either. Just more interested in it. I still really loathe/somewhat enjoy it. But let’s face facts. The treadmill and one Spinning and Pilates class a week are just not cutting it. A wise instructor once screamed at me, “If nothing changes, nothing changes.” Seemingly simple words but I think of them quite often, whenever I’m stuck in any kind of rut. You just cannot sit still and watch the world around you go by and do nothing about it. I will not wallow in self-pity (okay maybe for a day but that’s it!).

My babies are now kids. I can leave them for a couple of days and they survive without me. It’s time to take back my life and make some changes, however small, such as this blog and my workouts.

I promise to keep you posted, whether you want to know or not. And if I veer off-track for a while, hang in there with me. I might have just run into something else and got distracted, like an ice cream truck.