So before I got pregnant (and subsequently my world imploded and exploded at the same time), I was a runner. I was slower than a herd of turtles in peanut butter, but I was a runner. My best was a 12 minute mile and I was working on intervals and trying to train to start running 5Ks. And yes, I know you can continue to run while your pregnant, my doctor even assured me of it.
Until I started fainting and falling and they started worrying about my heart.
After that I was too scared to go running since I always went by myself. Granted I ran around our (at the time) neighborhood so I wasn’t exactly isolated but I also wasn’t guaranteed to be able to get help if I needed it right away. I wasn’t comfortable so I stopped although I had every intention of starting back up once my daughter was born.
But then I started having mental health issues and health issues and everything went to hell.
But I know stress is a serious factor in fibro flares and God knows I am way too stressed. Between work and family drama, a crippled support system, and a busy 19 month old, I’m on a hair trigger some days, especially if I’m having a flare.
But running was my zen. I never thought I’d be a runner (and I’m still a herd of turtles) but there it is. But it was always something I did by myself. Not that I hated having someone else with me but I did and still do prefer to be by myself. It gives me a chance to think or not think, to focus on just the run and forget all the crap in my life.
Trying to get back into with a kid, especially now that all of my doctors are on me about being active and staying active and losing weight, has been hard. Hubby is not a runner by any stretch. So if I’m home by myself with DD and dog, it’s a marathon by itself trying to get us all out the door, on the leash, in the stroller, house locked up, etc. I end up not because it’s too exhausting. And the many times I’ve suggested to Hubby “hey, let’s take a family walk” and the few times he’s agreed, we end up having speed bumps all day and not getting our walk.
But I’m too stressed. I think my anxiety is starting back up and I really can’t afford that. I’m not having panic attacks like I used to but I’m grinding my teeth. At first I think it was just at night (I’d wake and my teeth would be sore or feel kind of loose in their sockets almost) but then I started catching myself grinding my teeth while I was awake. I have a night guard now but it doesn’t do much for me during the day when I can’t wear it. (I could but I think it would interfere with the whole radio/phone thing at work.) Since I don’t want to end up on anxiety meds again, I decided it was time to take back a bit of control of my life, in a healthy way (yes I had unhealthy ways of doing it when I was younger so I make the clarification; see depression and anxiety references.)
Last night after my shift I got my butt onto a treadmill and ran, really ran, for the first time since I got pregnant (almost 3 years ago, that’s crazy to think about!) It was a 20 minute mile but it was a mile. My legs felt like rubber, my heart was hammering, my lungs were burning.
I FELT GREAT! I still feel great today. I’m not even that sore! But it was time for me and it showed me that I can get back to where I was, healthwise and weightwise (a 30 lb drop, ugh!)
Of course I’m sitting here staring at homework and wanting to throw myself off of a bridge because I clearly picked the wrong school to do my masters with but oh well. Gotta do what I gotta do. They were my only option for being completely online and still being able to get my degree.
Buckle down. #beastmode