My Running Mate

First, let me preface this entry by saying I hate running, always have and probably always will. That said- I've started running again. I do it for a purely superficial reason. It's the fastest way I've lost weight before so I'm hoping it will help me to drop all this baby weight.

I go to the little gym here because there's a padded children's play area in the women's locker room. I set Grace down in it, get up on the treadmill, run my measly couple miles, and voila- I've worked out for the day. For all you exercise fanatics, please don't judge my pathetic exercise regimen. I hope to improve and add more to it eventually, but for now, it's a start.

I'm so determined to continue my workouts that there are days I pray we're the only ones in there because I've vowed that even if she's being less than cooperative, I'm still going to get up on that treadmill and run. I'm just going to turn up the volume on my iPod and try to ignore her being fussy for 30 minutes. Thankfully, I haven't had to do that. Even if she starts out fussing, usually by the end, she's sound asleep.

Here are some pictures of my running mate's emotional progression during my work out:

Starts off fussing and wanting to be out of her carseat.

Then the treadmill turns on and she startles out of her fussiness and wonders what the heck her mama is doing up there.

After half a mile or so, she gets bored and falls asleep.