Atomic Tonic

Why you gotta be so cruel? If you keep hurting my feelings like this, I'm going to have to break up with you. For a little while. Nothing permanent, mind. I can't stay mad at you. But truly, you're not good for me right now. I've been keeping score.

10 weeks postpartum I ran a 5k in 26:53. Not fast, certainly, but ok for 10 weeks out. Two nights ago, nearly four and a half months postparum, I ran another 5k. 28 and change. 28 + minutes! I had to walk. Twice. I could feel my stomach rolling around under my stretched abdominals. I felt like a sausage. It was horrible. Last year, 2 months pregnant, I ran that 5k and got a PR and a medal. This year I got an upset stomach and had to remove both sports bras at the finish line, under my singlet, and nurse Linnea.

(That last part was comedy, actually. I had my mother bring the kids to the race. I figured the commotion would entertain Matilda and distract Linnea from the baby witching hour. What it really did was send both kids into a spiral of hysterics, one right after the other. Boy was my mother glad to see me finally cross the finish! Those 28 minutes count for at least an hour of Grandparent Duty because my kids, they can really lose their shit.)

Anyway running, you're making it hard to love you. I tried again first thing this morning and you wouldn't let me in. I've resigned myself to puny 5k distances in crappy time and forcing myself to go 5 on Saturdays with my club. I'm doing it but my heart's not in it.