Welp, until yesterday, I hadn’t run since about a week after my cervix-surgery. Doctor’s orders. I didn’t like the orders, but nervous my innerds would fall out, I listened. So, Monday, I actually set my alam in the afternoon – and made my way to the Y.

I walked in and felt like fellow Y-ers knew I hadn’t been there in a few weeks. I wanted to scream out, “I didn’t leave you! I had a damaged cervix that needed to be fixed!” I hopped on the treadmill, per usual… and started running. I really didn’t think I was going to make it past a mile. Really. I hated life at that point. But something happened and I got in a groove. Thank the Lord. I banged out a few more miles and hopped off. Now, my legs wanted to buckled under me after that — but I walked it out. Apparently I don’t know the meaning of “easing into it.” All or nothing. Bam.

I lifted, as well. I’m paying for that today. If a seven-year-old came behind me today and held my arms back, I’d have no defense. I’d get beat by a 1st grader. Wait, is that how old you are in 1st grade? (This lack of maternal knowledge, my friends, is why I’m getting a house… and not having children right now.)

I’m headed back to the gym right now. I should probably go everyday now until the half-marathon. Lord knows that thing won’t run itself.