I hate you.
I thought it was a great motivator to lose some baby weight (by the way, why does it get harder and harder to lose after each kiddo?), get fit again, do something with Steve, and catch up with some college buddies. Thankfully, hopefully, the last goal will be met, but as for the other three...not so much.
I've been running, not super regularly since I have 2 jobs and 4 kids, since Christmas. Haven't lost a pound. I guess I am getting fitter - I can run 6-7 miles, which I've never done before. Jeans really aren't fitting that much better, though. Love handles still there.
Due to numerous children, very rarely do Steve and I enjoy our new activity together - twice to be exact. Also, it's really not an enjoyable date. Take last Sunday. We were supposed to run 8 miles - barf. So it's the first, and only, nice day we've had since last August - it's 85F and pretty muggy. We have major landscape projects going during the day which are exhausting in themselves, so we put off our run til it gets cooler in the evening. Good plan, except then the wind picks up to like a stiff 30mph. So we head off on the run - into the wind. That is such an non-motivating thing. I keep trying to get visuals of rising up on wings of eagles and running and not growing weary. I'm praying with every step for God to help me go a few more. I feel much more like a turkey than an eagle flying. And we're both very weary. We ran a whopping 2.5 miles into the wind. We looked at each other and said, "this is dumb!" The 2.5 with the wind back to the car was much easier, but I think we were both deflated at the fact we were 3 miles short of our goal and DEAD!
So I should be on the treadmill right now. Kids are actually in bed, Steve's out of town. I could come up with a lot of good excuses. Time to go put the tennies on and plod off some miles. Only 2 more weeks til the race. Then I may not ever run again...until some other "friend" guilts me into it.