amy’s treadmill workout

recently i have become a mentor mom for MOPS. i will give the disclaimer that i feel woefully under-qualified to mentor anyone but have really enjoyed my time with these young moms. in getting to know my small group at the beginning of the year, i told them that one of my goals is to be in the best shape of my life when i turn forty. at this, all their ears seemed to perk up and they started asking what program i was following to achieve this lofty goal. i first explained that i had just spent the last year homeschooling our four kids. during that time, my workouts mostly involved running to the closet for a moment of calm reflection i.e. hiding from the children before there was yelling and lifting the gallon of ice cream out of the freezer as my end-of-the-day reward.  i wasn’t exactly running marathons before that so wanting to be in the best shape of my life wasn’t sitting the bar too terribly high. still i did share some of my workouts with them and thought you might be interested in knowing what a typical workout looks like for me.

minutes spent picking out what to wear: at least 30; the best part of exercising is the clothes so you might as well enjoy it. in fact, sometimes i just put on workout clothes and call it a day.

minutes spent trying to remember how to get the treadmill to actually start moving: 2, though i can stretch it to 3-4 if i pretend to tie my shoes or adjust my ear buds in the middle to hide the fact that i can’t remember how to turn on the machine.

minutes spent reminding myself not to mouth the words to the killer workout playlist i am listening to: 30; number of minutes i spend mouthing the words cause i forgot to listen to myself: 10.

minutes spent pretending i am racing the person next to me and winning: 30; number of minutes i am actually beating the person next to me: 0.

number of times i get distracted by the televisions or talking to a friend and almost fall of the treadmill: 7; number of times i have actually fallen off the treadmill: 2; 3 if you count making lots of screeching noises with my shoes and managing to catch myself at the last minute.

minutes spent trying to run in sync with the music i am listening to: 30; minutes actually spent running in sync with said music and feeling like a real life rock star: 30 seconds, totally worth the effort.

amount of sweat that pours out of every, and i mean every, surface of my body when running: approximately 12 gallons. amount of water i manage to drink while running in order to replace above mentioned fluids: 2 tablespoons, it’s just too much effort to reach for the water bottle.

number of times, on average, my kids call to ask if they can play minecraft or what is for dinner while i am trying not to fall off the treadmill: 4

total calories burned in an average workout: 300; number of calories burned from actual exercise: 78; number of calories burned by the stress of going to the gym: 222.

how to love your teenager

if you had told me back in my days of diapers and sippie cups that having a teenager could be just as demanding as having a newborn, i would have laughed you back into last week. but i am here to say people, walking someone through puberty is no joke.

now before you recently post-partumed ladies get your knickers all in a twist, let me say that while my shoe-tying, bottom-wiping, nap-time days are behind me, they are not so far in the distant past that i don’t remember the energy-draining, tear-inspiring, hair-pulling madness of infants and toddlers. the demands of early motherhood have no rival. navy seals should be required to serve a tour of duty searching for pacifiers and listening to “wheels on the bus” a million times a day.

while young children may be an undeveloped weapon of war, as the mother of a thirteen year old who seems to grow an inch every time i turn around, there are other demands, emotional and mental, that weren’t nearly as complex back when barney was cool. isn’t it just like kids to go and change their list of demands just about the time we feel capable of meeting them? just as i celebrated the end of pack and plays and diaper bags, i get blindsided by new needs i didn’t see coming.

through years of interrupted sleep and endlessly monotonous days, a part of me retreated deep inside. it’s like a  part of my emotional, intellectual self was hibernating. sure, i laughed and cried with my babies. i answered their questions about the nature of space and humanity, but i also shut off a place in my head that was reserved for coffee dates with the hubby or girls’ night chatter.

i wasn’t aware of just how far i had retreated into myself until my maturing kids started to invade that space. they are no longer satisfied with superficial conversation or half-listening head nods. i took them all to the children’s museum, ready to lose myself in a book for a few hours while they discovered the wonders of dinosaurs and soil erosion. instead, my oldest sat beside me the whole time and had the audacity to wish to speak to me! can you believe his cheeky nerve? i found myself irritated at the intrusion and have to confess, i repelled his attempts at conversation with more annoyance than tact.

it has taken me a good part of the summer to realize what is going on and to start to do something about it. it’s like being woken up from a deep sleep and taking a few minutes to orient yourself. now that i am finally waking up to this new phase of parenting, i am actually starting to enjoy myself. i am shaking off the bed covers of my brain and starting to share more of myself with these emerging people known as my children. after years of feeling lonely and isolated by my role as a stay-at-home mom, i am enjoying our new found companionship. i have a feeling, like their time as infants and toddlers, this won’t last forever and is best treasured while it lasts. thank goodness their personal maintenance skills are lagging behind their conversational skills. once they conquer the kitchen and the laundry room, i will be totally obsolete.