Back in the Saddle Again, Almost

The annoyance at Christmas music should have been my first clue. I wanted to rip the radio out of the wall each time I heard 'Jingle Bells'. 'It's Beginning to Look Like Christmas' seemed overly sarcastic in its tone and suddenly made me cringe instead of smile with content. The throwing away of many Christmas goodies was the second clue. It was time to start working out again. Time to start clearing my brain before I became hostile. Actually, it was a bit too late for becoming hostile. How about overly hostile? Throw in nearly 70 degree temps outside and it became a no-brainer. The sky was a deep steel grey that threatened rain at any moment and the warm wind whipped around in a damp breeze that might make others stay inside. Not me though, I was bound and determined from the time I cracked opened the first window that I was going to get a workout in of some kind that day.

As the day wore on with feedings, diapering, grocery shopping, tending to a sick spouse, laundry and everything else that the day can throw at you, I was beginning to kiss my dreams of a work out goodbye. The sky was looking darker and I could have just packed it in, "But it is the end of December!" my brain screamed and "It's nearly 70! You must get out! Quick, quick before it's too late!" So I did. I dashed outside without a second thought, iPod strapped to my arm. I wanted to take off running.

Except I couldn't. The wind was whipping my hair around into a snarled, damp mess. It seems I had forgotten to tie it back. And my breasts. Oh, my aching breasts. They weren't smashed to my chest with an industrial sports bra or even an ace bandage-like nursing bra. Nope. Just a plain, old, barely holding them in, all-the-laundry-is-dirty bra. Great. No running for me then. I began to reconsider my jaunt outdoors until I caught the strains of Billy Idol's, 'Dancing with Myself' and I no longer cared. It didn't matter that I was so out of practice in even the most elemental parts of getting ready for a workout. That I couldn't run like I wanted to. I was outside, the holidays were almost over and at almost six weeks post-partum I was working out again, even if it is by taking baby steps.