I don’t know about you, but I am essentially lazy.
Now, that’s not a universal truth. I’m rarely lazy about writing, for instance. And every late winter, I get the gardening/landscaping bug, and vow that this year is going to be different. This year, I’m going to really stay on top of the garden!
But every year about this time, when the cool of the night only reaches 75, and in the 95 degree afternoon, walking feels more like swimming…when I growl, “I want to move to Colorado!”…about this time, I get very, very lazy.
This year it’s the running that’s getting me. Another area in which I am habitually lazy. I…HATE…running. I hate sweating. I hate the stitch in my side, the heaviness in my legs, the on-again, off-again shifting in my kneecaps.
But this year, I’ve got baby weight to lose.
A nursing mother isn’t supposed to diet, and that’s good because that’s another thing I hate. I’m a believer in the idea that the proportion of activity to caloric intake creates an equilibrium at a certain weight range, and the only way to lose weight permanently is to shift the proportions permanently. I’m old enough now to notice metabolism slowing down, which further complicates things.
So as much as I hate it, running is high on my priority list this year. In between early morning storms, short (interrupted) nights, hospital stay and so forth, it’s been hard to get going consistently this spring. I’ve been very lazy. Christian fusses at me. “If you want to lose weight, you need to push yourself!” he says. Well, a couple weeks ago I overslept, and after much grousing, I decided to go ahead and run, even though it was already 7 and he had to leave for work in twenty minutes.
Knowing I was on a time limit made me push harder. And that was the day I realized: I can do more than I think I can.
So this morning, after being up late with Nicholas, and awakened at 1:20 and 1:50 by Julianna, and at 2:30 by Christian moaning in agony (reprise of the bug he got the night before Nicholas was born), and at 3 by Nicholas, and again by Julianna at 4, and by Christian again at 5, and then sent to the store for Sprite…all I wanted to do at 5:30 a.m. was collapse back into bed.
But the scales have been a pound kinder the last three days, and I didn’t want to waste that. So I ran anyway. I figured however little I did, it was better than nothing. In the past, I’d’ve wimped out and walked half of it. But today, I repeated my new mantra: You can do more than you think you can. You can do more than you think you can.
And what do you know? I did!