It has begun.

Torture. That's how it feels sometimes. There is no getting around it- exercise feels like torture when you are out of shape and carrying extra to boot.

I was doing much better during the winter and spring. My Mare would come over and we were boogy woogy. I know Mare had to go work out again after she did with me- because her fitness level is...let's just go with GINORMOUS compared to me. (wow- even that is an understatement!) But I was going and doing.

Then I was pregnant. Exercise went right out the window! I was beyond and description of tired. I did try from time to time, but just found myself in frantic states of nausea before too long.

Then I lost the baby. The last thing on this planet I wanted to do was exercise! That is about the most laughable thing I can think of. I was way too bummed out for that! Sitting, missing the baby, and trying not to be angry sounded much more like me right???

So now its time. Gotta get with it! I decided to try a few small lifestyle changes- and they have been going well- but the dreaded torture of exercise- had still been ignored. So I started walking again. Meh- did not feel like enough. Then my patented walk, jog, collapse. Mostly it was just walk, a minute of jogging, then horrible scenes of collapse. Wow- does that NOT need an audience. I had to do something else. I had let 6 pounds go- but nothing else for like 2 weeks. Bit the big bullet here and sought help beyond my walks. I am in tears about the upcoming torture. I can remember the days of 13 miles of running. (Seems like a joke right? Me? It was me! I swear it!) How that was possible is beyond my ability to process now. Was another person- another lifetime. But its not forgotten, and possible to find myself again at somewhere in between 13 miles and here. I started my new program smallish tonight- with a nice 25 minutes on the elliptical. A perfect fat burning heart rate- an I actually feel pretty decent. I ALMOST think I could have a good time...but I know the torture is coming. The blood. The sweat. The tears. The river I plan on crying. Oh goody?

It not to mean that another little baby is not in our future. How could I go from loving the idea of being a new mommy again- to nothing at all? But it still seems so scary to go through that again. I am not even sure I could. For now, I have opened up my arms to sessions of cruel and unusual torture. The joy of a little one will happen when it is best for me.