Today was the last of three runs in my Week 3 challenge.
It’s funny, all of the things you have to think about just to leave the house for 45 minutes.
Not only do you have to time your outing with naps and feedings, there are little things like logistics. “Getting baby into stroller” posed one of the biggest challenges.
I live on the ground floor of a 6-unit apartment building. The trouble is, you have to walk down a set of stairs to reach the building’s front door, then walk up a set of stairs to reach my apartment door. Our stroller sits on the landing in between.
I can’t put the baby in the stroller, then hoist it up a flight of outdoor stairs. Visions of “Crash, bank, ‘WAAAA,'” dance in my head. I have to leave her inside, (which, as a crime-centric American, freaks me out) while I bring the stroller out to the street and prepare it with her blankets and toys.
Then I have to leave our not-so-cheap buggy outside while I get the baby. Then what? Do I put on my coat first so I’m sweating like a pig while getting her ready, or dress her first, but then she’s sweating like a pig waiting for me. Do I put on my tennis shoes, which are dirty, before I walk into her room to get her? Or do I lay her on the floor next to the shoes? It really is a lot to think about for a task as simple as putting one foot in front of the other while trying to go fast.
Which is why today’s run was so nice. I left the little one at home with Daddy. 🙂
I ran the same route as I had earlier this week. Am happy to report I didn’t have to stop while running uphill. I did, however, stop to take a few pictures.
It felt so good to be able to slip into a zone without worry about whether Sophie was too cold, too sleepy, a car would veer off the road and slam into us. Cheerful, eh?
I did wonder, once or twice, if she was giving the Daddy a hard time, if they were happily assembling our new kitchen table or working on her rolling-over technique.
Mostly, I thought about putting one foot in front of the other and watching the world go by. It’s a form of meditation, a clearing the mind of unnecessary chatter, and I have missed it so.
I have to admit that, in the middle of the return home, I doubted my resolve to stick to a 3-times-per-week routine. It’s a lot of work. It’s cold. And my ego has taken a hit as the miles don’t come as easily any more.
But I plan to keep at it, keep trying to renew my commitment to this exercise both for my physical well being and my mental stability. I have heard that any activity can become a habit in about 21 days. Is that 21 running days? Or 21 days with some running in between? I don’t know. I’ll just plan to run three days a week for the next three weeks and then reassess.
Must admit it’s good to have had this little taste of the road. It reminded me of the resolve I had before the baby was born. Resolve is something that can disappear very quickly when you haven’t slept for more than three consecutive hours in more than a year.
Running is a goal that can be measured, not only by the miles logged, but by the rush of feel-goodness when you get into a rhythm, by a sense of strength, that “Today I got up and did something hard.”
I like that. Want more of it.
Stay tuned next week as I:
I can’t just pick up a package from the grocery store shelf and read the ingredients, or inspect instructions on a box of medicine. I can’t even understand shows on the Travel Channel. Now that I live in Switzerland, everyday tasks take on a new level of complication. I have absolutely no experience speaking German.
Last year, for my birthday, Dominique gave me Rosetta Stone’s German lessons in anticipation of my move to Bern. Sadly, I have completed a mere three chapters of the first series. I know that the BSC Young Boys, our local football (read: soccer) team’s, colors are gelb und schwarz. That’s about it. So this coming week, in honor of my birthday, I will dust off my old gift and practice my new home’s language.