I haven’t blogged about running since April.
That’s unreal because when I first started this blog, I sort of thought it would be part baby blog, part running blog. But, like every other part of my life, David has sort of taken over.
Running since the 10k has been great, but a little directionless. Since I don’t have a race on the calendar, running is about maintaining fitness, catching up with my running buddies, and burning off that extra helping of ice cream.
Recently, David has given me a little more direction (and there he goes again, taking over another post).
Tom and I have a gym membership, which comes with free babysitting. I haven’t really been using it because I am a lunatic who is nervous about dropping her baby off in a room full of strangers that are fully-trained and qualified childcare professionals.
But recently Tom threatened to cancel the membership. It wasn’t a threat as much as it was applying logic to our life. Hey, we’re paying for this every month, maybe we should use it?
This all coincided with David having some separation issues. We drop him off at the nursery at our church (see, I’m not completely crazy), and for the past few Sundays he hasn’t made it through the service. When I drop him off he’s fine, but about 20 minutes later he realizes I’m not around and he melts into a puddle of tears and snot – even when the nursery workers are people he knows.
Obviously David did the same thing at the gym, because babies aren’t consistent about things you enjoy, like sleeping through the night or eating vegetables. And everyone knows a baby who roars nonstop, but then when they’re around other people the mom is like, “What does the lion say? Come on, you know it! What does the lion say?” And the kid looks at her like she’s crazy. A lion? Please, lady.
But the, um, not-so-desirable habits? Habits like screaming when mama walks out of the room? You can set your watch by it.
I really want this whole separation anxiety thing to be a short phase, so I’m trying to use the gym in my favor. It’s a place I can drop David off for a short amount of time every day and hope he eventually notices a pattern — mommy drops David off and then!? THEN MOMMY COMES BACK! Every single time, David. every.single.time.
So I’ve been going to the gym regularly, but I don’t work out for long because I know that David is screaming in the arms of a caring, responsible, stranger.
I’ve only been running for 20 minutes at a time. I can’t run long, but I can run hard. My 20-minute runs are almost at race pace, and then what I wish was my race pace during commercials.
Does anyone else time their workouts with commercial breaks at the gym?
There’s not a lot of time in there for warm-up or cool down, but so far so good. Usually I’d consider race pace and tempo-type running speed work — and usually after speed work I take a rest day — but this just seems like such little time on my feet that the need for a recovery day seems over the top.
We’re both making progress. David’s making progress in childcare, and even though I don’t think I’m increasing my fitness or building much endurance, I’m building a little strength and, even better, the confidence to push my pace.
When I get home I usually do a workout video because 20 minutes doesn’t quite burn off the ice cream. Plus, I’m already sweaty, so I might as well do some shredding with Jillian Michaels.
The upside is that David loves workout tapes. He laughs when I jump around, and free weights are in his top 10 favorite toys.
Yesterday after I finished my run and went to rescue David, he was happily playing on the floor and the workers were commenting on his crawling style. He had a great time. Since I go straight from the treadmill to the babysitting room, I usually sit on the floor and stretch before leaving. By the time I finished, the women and I were commiserating about buying clothes a size too small because maybe that would motivate you to pass on the plate of fries, but it never does.
What I’m trying to say here is: there’s good news on the horizon. My gym membership is intact, and it looks like we’re all making some friends in the childcare room.