Friday, January 27, 2006

I've been having an ugly week. I'm feeling pale and dumpy and flabby. I'm annoyed with myself for the way I've been eating. I obsess about making really healthy meals for us, then I go and snack on bad stuff in between. Like yesterday I ate super healthy stuff all day, and then last night before we put a movie in, Steve convinced me to run to the gas station to get snacks. I could have refused all together, or just gotten something for him, but no, I had to get myself some Chili Cheese Fritos and cappucino as well. (Which, by the way, left me with a case of The World's Most Horrendous Knock-You-Off-Your-Feet Breath.)

In order to feel a little better about myself, today I decided to try working out at the community center again. The last time I unsuccessfully tried to leave Emma in the tot drop was about five months ago. All the way there this morning I was telling her about the fun she was going to have playing with toys and kids. She was really excited until I handed her over to the lady and started to explain that I would be back. She looked a little concerned, but they walked off towards the toys and I left, crossing my fingers that she would be happy there. I decided to try one of the treadmillls first. Being unfamiliar with the settings, I put it on some sort of cardio workout at a speed that sounded good to me, all for 30 mintes. Good Lord. I must have unknowingly set it on "Only For People Who Run Three Marathons Every Week". After two minutes, I was certain I was going collapse and roll off the back, where I would lay in a motionless heap, except for my poor heart still trying to hammer itself through my chest. I was determined to finish my 30 minutes, however, so I kept on. I was concentrating so hard on not dying that I almost didn't hear the announcement over the speakers asking Sarah to please return to the tot drop. So after eight minutes of practically sprinting up a mountain, I had to quit and go rescue Emma. When I got there she was a sobbing, shuddering mess. I felt terrible for her, but also sad that I wasn't going to be able to work out. Ever, apparently. I tried to go in and play with her, but she just clung to me, whimpering, "home...home...home". I'd like to try it again soon so on the way home I talked excitedly about the fun she had there. She must have fallen for it, because by the time we were home, she was asking, "Play? Kids? Toys?" I guess next week we'll try it again and maybe then I'll be able to work out for ten minutes instead of eight. Baby steps, baby steps.

7 comments:

abbinator said...

Poor you. I get nervous on the treadmill as well. I once fell on one at the rec center, which was not very fun at all. Emma is just thinks that she lives in such a secure and fun house that she does not want to leave it!

Katie said...

oh dear, what a rough experience! Have faith...the cardio wont always be so hard. I bet emma will adjust too, hopefully you'll get more than 10 minutes next time. :)

Aunt Mary said...

Next time, if Emma gets separation anxiety, strap her on your back and go back to the treadmill. Just think how much more resistance that will add to your workout...:) just kidding.

studly d said...

Why does it keep saying that you have no comments?
Maybe Emma was upset because she feels like she needs to lose some weight too and wanted to run on the treadmill. I think you should give her a chance next time.

mom said...

As I am reading your poignant and funny story, my heart is pounding from just walking 17 minutes at a not-very-fast pace on our treadmill. I got to stop because a Girl Scout came to the door and I bought two boxes of her cookies!
Hello to Aunt Mary. Which one are you?!

mom said...

Another thought, that might make you feel better about Emma being so attached to you...We were on retreat all weekend and I was looking forward to eating supper, chatting, and doing Sudoku races with my sweet little son, Peter. But would you believe he is spending the afternoon and evening with Erin, and probably didn't even miss me all weekend? So it might be hard, but try to appreciate being the most important person in precious Emma's life. Before you know it, things change!

Abbie said...

Your mom is right. I told my mom this story and she said, "Tell her that her tot drop-off time will come soon enough, when Emma wants to study abroad and leave her for three months and seventeen days!"