I will pay for motivation

After I ran the Baltimore Ten Miler, my motivation took a major dive. I never used to be the type of runner that needed a race on the horizon to force me to exercise, but, now I am, apparently.

My ottoman is not really that dirty, he was playing with cloud dough. 

So, I signed up for a race. To motivate myself, and because actually running seemed easier than updating my blog header and description, which I really need to do. Thank goodness I never put "run" in the title or anything. 

I kept going back and forth on this, because this race is expensive as all hell, even though it's really fun. It's local, all the runners in the city come out for it, and I love throwing all my money away. I mean, being active will save on health care later in life, or something.

I never really believed that people started over from scratch after having a baby, I thought people who said that were just being humble. And while I'm sure not everyone does, it's certainly been my experience. So even though I've run several 50 milers (Stone Mill, JFK, and Stone Mill again) in the past, right now the prospect of running 13.1 is pretty daunting.

My assumption was that training with a baby would mainly be tough due to lack of sleep, but you know what happens when you assume. I think I got fairly accustomed to just sleeping in like, 3 hour stretches, and coffee exists for a reason, so that was fine. The real problem is my issue of being addicted to my kid.

I mean...

I was doing good with getting up and running before he woke up. But as the school year went on, he started waking up earlier and I started hitting that snooze button harder and harder. So then I'd be in my running clothes, and he'd be acting all cute, and I'd be like...nah.

Also he steals my Garmin.

It's just more fun using my legs to play catch.

I seriously have issues doing anything other than spending time with him. Eric texted me from IKEA last weekend telling me Dalton had woken up from his nap, and I got really anxious and yelled at my mom WE NEED TO GO HOME when she innocently suggested browsing the throw pillows. Only a tad over 12 years until he's a surly teenager and then I hope I'll be cured. 

I'm going to have to try hard to get back to waking up at my intended time so I don't die on October 17 (that's when the half is). I've also tried to switch things up and I've gone to two Pilates classes after Dalton goes to bed. I really hate working out at night, but, when in Rome. That wasn't exactly "training" but strong abs help people run faster, so I hear, and it's better than sitting and drinking wine  and playing on the internet, my usual evening activity.

Judging you

There's still long runs to contend with. I'm counting on some good friends to keep me company, and I'm sure I can bring the stroller on some of them. I'll probably start training next month. Clearly I've thought all this out carefully.

Because everyone loves a good daddy/baby picture.

In answer to popular questions, he very rarely stops smiling. But try to wipe his face, change his diaper/clothes/do anything where he needs to be still, or take him away from his parents, and all hell breaks lose.

I will break through this barrier.

So that's what's happening. Yikes.

Any other moms (or dads?) that felt like exercise after having a baby truly put them back at square one?