In my downtime when I'm not fantasizing about full, uninterrupted nights of sleep.... I'm dreaming about going to the gym. It's funny the things you miss or treasure when you can't freely do them anymore.
I took a tremendous leap when I registered for my first 5k after babies. Of course, my goals on any 5k have never been lofty. My goal is simply to finish and not finish last. My gym rat of a husband and I started the race at the same time, but finished several minutes apart.
After starting, I kept having weird problems with my iPod. I would have the Black-Eyed Peas playing some song with a good beat and I would accidentally hit it and bam! Neil Diamond. Then, I'd have Katy Perry playing and hit it again and something like Ray Charles "Georgia on my mind" (which is a warm up song) would come on.
When I reached mile1, I thought I wasn't going to make it. When I reached the first hill, I cursed whomever designed this race course. During the last mile when I climbed, okay walked, several steep hills and slowly jogged the last half-mile which was a gradual incline, I was cursing this race with each sluggish step and deep breath I could take. What kind of cruel joke was this? Why didn't I look at the course before signing up? I know why. I was thrilled enough to see a race that had included childcare, so I didnt' look at anything else!
I didn't finish last, actually it was a rather respectable time, but I did finish right beside some 10-year-old kid who got several cheers at the finish line. That almost made me feel like I was finishing last.