I have been doing a great job of using Squeak wanting to be outside to motivate me to run, or walk on the days I feel lazy but know I need to get the Squeak Monster outside. And by the way, since I assume you found your way to this blog post via the link on Facebook, thanks for not blocking or deleting me due to all my annoying MapMyRun posts. And an even bigger thanks to all who have "liked" any or all of my posts because believe it or not it's encouraging. We went up to Minnesota for half of last week and the weekend and I didn't get any workouts in which made me worried my workout success was going to be short-lived, but I've grudgingly jumped back on the workout wagon this week now that we're back home. I don't know about all of you, but I HAVE to push myself to do something nearly every day until I get some momentum, which for me, is probably a good month of daily (or at least 5 days weekly) exercise of some kind. The hubby has been very good about encouraging me this week, and I know if it wasn't for him, this week would have been bad bad bad (it hasn't been stellar by any means the way it is).
I enjoy running. I enjoy the feeling after a good run (not always during). I enjoy seeing how my clothes start to fit better. I enjoy seeing some muscle tone (which I lost a lot of during pregnancy, so it's been really nice seeing it reappear). What I don't enjoy.....
[Men (I don't think there's any that actually read my blog out there, but): You might want to skip this paragraph]
My boobs. They have a momentum all of their own. And trying to match my stride with their momentum isn't always easy. I am soooo envious of girls/women who can buy cute workout clothes. You know, the matching sports bras, tanks, and shorts or running pants. The clothes you can go to a store and buy. And for the record, I hate bra shopping and I hate shopping for clothes online, so having to find a bra online usually results in a couple hundred dollars worth of bras being purchased, and all but MAYBE one or two bras that fall into the category they're-not-perfect-but-I-need-something-so-I'll keep-them, and the rest get returned. I probably haven't owned a bra that fit well/right since the eighth grade. Large cups paired with average sized shoulders/chest equals no such bra designed. I know I know, the female who is happy with all aspects of her body doesn't exist, and I've probably made it plenty clear to all of blogland (and pretty much anyone I've ever talked to more than a handful of times) my least favorite anatomical feature. So much so, I've actually thought I maybe should've named my blog "Booby Blunders" or "The Troubles with Boobs".
[Men rejoin here, and please take note]
So naturally when I run I am super self-conscience of my boobs' "momentum." The first day I ran, I ran on a gravel road just a block from our house that went out of town. Why? Minimal traffic. I hate the thought of people seeing me run, especially males. I am well aware of male eyes wondering, I didn't just grow these things yesterday! This is going to sound ridiculous to some based on the topic of discussion, but I once read or heard, can't remember for sure which, something along the lines of, "Don't be the reason for the fall of another woman's husband." I'll admit to being naive about a lot of things, but I'm not naive enough to think that a little jog is going to make another man leave his wife. I'd like to think you can understand the connection here, though. With that said, I have started running through town, and for the first few runs I was still pretty apprehensive. However, I keep telling myself I can't let my worries keep me from being healthy. I feel I support myself and cover myself the best I can the majority of the time, and the lookers are going to look regardless. But at least I've done what I can to control the situation. Besides, I also realize that runners in general draw people's attention for a number of different reasons. The more I write, the more I feel like I make a bigger deal out of it than it really is. Just because they're slapping me in the face with every stride doesn't mean that's what's on everyone else's mind. People probably don't even notice me on my way by. Ego deflated.
One last brief note while we're on the topic....I haven't pumped since Sunday. Wah-whooooo!!! I do miss it a little.
Thanks for checking in!
