The day I came home from my 6 weeks postpartum appointment, I attempted to go for a "run". I had been walking pretty consistently 1-2 miles a day since the baby was 2 weeks old. I'd take the jogging stroller out (and walk) with Joanna and days I needed a mental break or it was too difficult to get out with her, it would just be me and the pavement. That Tuesday after my OB appointment, I was pretty excited to get back to running... until I really started to pick up the pace and everything jiggled. I'm not even joking! I started out slow and easy, attempting 1 mile at a time.
While we were staying at grandma's house, there was a perfect 1 mile loop that we'd walk together. Once I was cleared for exercise from the OB, I started jogging that loop. I started out between 12:30 and 13 minute miles. I was a little sad realizing how much fitness I had lost in those last months of pregnancy. But, I was happy to be getting back outside.
Now that we are in Texas, its a little harder to get outside. I either try to get out the door first thing in the morning or right after one of Jo's feedings. But, since the start of winter we've been getting some pretty cold weather that I'm just not used to. Running in 40 degrees while it's dark (first thing in the morning) makes it feel like 20 degrees. But, once the sun comes up - 40 degrees is perfect! Needless to say, my running efforts haven't been very consistent. As much as I'd like to say that my few attempts are purely for the happiness of running, they aren't. I would like to starting losing the last 25 pounds of baby weight (said no mom ever) and maybe sign up for a fall half marathon to keep the motivation going.
So, I've started dedicating 30 minutes a day to work-out videos. I've been waking up between 4:30 and 5am (usually engorged and ready to pump) and getting in 30 minutes of 21 Day Fix Extreme or JM's Killer Buns and Thighs (come on - I'd like to fit back into those size 4 jeans collecting dust in my closet). When the baby has a rough night (...like the whole house is awake) or I just don't have the energy to get up, I try to get in a 3mile or 30 minute run later on in the day.
The only way I can make any of this fitness happen is because of Brad. He's taken the 2-3am feeding and I keep sleeping until my boobs are screaming "PUMP ME!" (this is a real thing). He's been really supportive with feedings and encouraging me to exercise (I'm sure he's also tired of me complaining about my baby weight... sometimes I am tired about me complaining too). That's one reason why I decided to throw away my scale.
Joanna was 9 weeks old when I decided that I wasn't going to let the number on the scale define my happiness (I also didn't have any space in my suitcase to pack it in my flight to Texas - but that's besides the point). I was doing work-out videos at grandmas house and running 8-10 miles a week and the number on the scale just wasn't budging. Like nothing, it just didn't move. I became so discouraged that I would literally go eat a cookie (grandma has lots of yummy snacks in her pantry).
We got to Texas and I bought new work clothes for my new job and my new body. One thing I didn't buy? Was a new scale. I just keep telling myself that slow progress is still progress. I would focus on being healthy and getting my fitness back. And today, 5 weeks after we moved to Texas (and 5 weeks since I threw away that scale), 8 weeks since I started exercising (while still indulging in all those holiday treats) and 14 weeks after Joanna was born... I'M HAPPY TO REPORT THAT I RAN 5 MILES!
I can't even believe it. So instead of focusing on the number on the scale, this year I'm going to focus on how many miles I can run without dying, how many (insert booty exercise here) I can do without stopping, how many ounces of water I can drink and how many fruits and vegetables I can eat in a day. I refuse to let the number on the scale define who I am! And just like that, I'm growing confidence that I can be a healthy mom - because that's all I really want to do, is be a healthy mom (and maybe fit back into my size 4 jeans - eventually). [end rant]