About a week ago, I joined the YMCA. Again. I used to go fairly regularly in my pre-baby days, especially loving when the hubs and I would play racquetball together. My OB said we were free to continue with racquetball after I got knocked up, but that was until we told her the story of how the hubs had knocked a ball into my stomach and burst open my bellybutton. Seriously. So she banned that idea.
I didn't go much into my pregnancy. I had horrible nausea for the first four months and the swelling set in soon after that. I think I got about two weeks of an actual second trimester, I-love-being-pregnant moment. I did the whole pool thing in the latter months, but that was about it.
So when I got on the treadmill last Friday, I just about died. That's when I decided to try out the Couch to 5k program. I've done it twice now, and let me tell you, it's hard. As in, I'm gonna topple right off this treadmill because my legs will fall off hard.
I'm actually really enjoying it, for all my bickering. I'm sore, but it's that good kind of soreness, the kind that reminds you that you worked out and your body's actually feeling it. I'm just feeling so motivated right now to get back in some kind of shape.
I really want to feel like this:
Though right now I feel more like this:
Or even just this:
The major downside right now is that my kid hates HATES going to the gym daycare. And seriously, I'm only living him for about 15 minutes right now, but he notices I'm gone and just freaks out. He's never been left with strangers before, so I praying that he just gets used to it.
I can't help but feel majorly guilty though. I want him to be all like this when we go to the Y:
Instead, he's all like this:
He really, seriously, freaks out. And when I come to get him, it's all the worse. He'll practically lunge for me and beg me to pick him up, and when I do, he stretches out his hand toward the door and keeps it there until we leave. I make myself hold it together but I just want to cry for making him feel like that.
I'm encouraged by the fact that as soon as we leave the daycare and he realizes we're leaving the Y, he's all smiles and babbles. He's a little more clingy once we get home, wanting lots of kisses and playtime with me, but I'm not seeing any signs that I'm scarring him for life. I guess my only choice if I want to shed these 15 pounds is to just keep going. Maybe he'll get used to it soon.
I hope. For my post-baby butt's sake.