Vacation ends ….

Yes, it’s that time again.  The time that vacation ends and the real work begins.  I probably shouldn’t complain too much as I am really only going back to work for a week because we have to close the office for a major renovation.  Oops, did I just out myself?  Meh … whatever.

As I write this, I am physically exhausted.  After spending the morning watching the London 2012 Olympic Games (I’m a huge fan, did I mention that?), my husband and I took the kids for a long bike ride – 19.75km, in fact.  Yep, not only am I running (my girlfriend and I cracked the 5km mark last week!), I am also biking almost 20 km!

What on earth has gotten in to me????

I almost don’t recognize myself.  A month ago, I was feeling very lazy, un-fit, flabby and tired.  While I still feel tired, I am feeling more energized than I have in a long time.  Sure, my weight hasn’t changed much, but I do notice a subtle difference in the flab.  The spare tire is deflating.  The flab is toning.  I have to pat myself on the back, I am so proud of myself for getting up off my ass and getting active.

Now that I am going back to work, the real job begins.  Keeping up with my workout schedule.

Once again, wish me luck!

Running.

I never really understood why people run.  To me, running is hard.  I’d much rather get on a stepper at a gym than run outside.  I see a lot of patients in my office with various injuries from running.  Though, I suppose being able to run is important in the event of a zombie apocalypse, right?  Heaven knows, I can barely keep up with my toddler as she runs full tilt across the playground.  It’s embarrassing, frankly.  Disgraceful, actually.

I used to be in fairly good shape.  Back in residency, I would go to the gym 3-4 times a week.  My favourites were the stepper and the elliptical.  Eventually I got brave and tried the treadmill.  I think I could run up to 15-20 minutes on the treadmill when I was at my peak of fitness then.  Quite an accomplishment!  But then I moved back home, started working full-time and gym time became more and more difficult.  Then I got pregnant, twice.  Now, a year and change later, I am out of shape, huffing and puffing just getting up the stairs carrying my toddler.  Enough is enough.  I was all set to bite the bullet and get back to the gym when my husband suggested I just start running.  This was a few months ago.  So, I thought about it.  Yup, that’s about all I did.  I thought about running.  Didn’t like the sound of it.  Thus, I procrastinated a bit more.

Fast-forward to this month.  It’s vacation.  Daughter is in preschool 3 days a week and husband and I have free time with our son.  I got the dust off my bike and hopped on.  In the last two weeks we have gone out for about 5-6 bike rides.  I can already feel my body craving more.  My girlfriend invited me (again) to join her “boot camp” a few nights ago.  I decided to go.

I loved it.  Loved it.  We ran 3 and 1 (3 minutes running, 1 minute walking) for 23 minutes.  Then we did hills and in between hills we’d do abdominal work or leg work.  I felt great at the end of the 1 hour and change we worked out. My friend showed us some yoga to stretch afterwards too.   Those endorphins are awesome!

The next day?  Every single muscle in my body was screaming at me.  Everything hurt.  At first it was “oh my god, I’ve injured myself” kind of hurt; later it became the “it feels good” kind of hurt.  The day after that? Oh my goodness, it was even worse.  That was today.  Rather than sit on my butt and complain, I decided to contact my girlfriends to see if they wanted to go for a run.  I know, crazy right???

Now, try not laugh.  I ran (with a bit of walking) 3.36 km in 30 minutes.  This is how I looked when we were done.

What’s even more crazy?  I have a date to do it again in 2 days.

Quitting while I’m ahead.

Yesterday, I got a sudden urge to clean house.  Maybe it’s because we are going away for a week and I want to come home to a tidy house for once. We make valiant attempts at keeping a tidy house, but I honestly don’t know how people do it with children.  As soon as I can say I’ve cleaned the kitchen, I turn around and it looks like a tornado hit it.   Really? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.  Our garage is a disaster too. There is so much stuff in there, I’m not even sure what all of it is.  There is lots of baby gear – swing, buzzy chair, playmate, bumbo – stuff that my son has now outgrown.  I don’t think we were intentionally hanging on to it, it just kind of got forgotten.

Every other day, my husband and I have a discussion about a 3rd child. As much as I would love to have more kids, I have to think we are done with the two beautiful children we already have.  I mean, why mess with perfection, right?  (I jest.)  When my son was born, everyone assumed we were done. After all, there we were with the million dollar family.  (I’m still waiting for that million to appear in my bank account.) I remember clearly the day when my son was a few months old that I realized I was sad. Sad because deep down I think I already knew then that he was going to be my last child.

Recently a girlfriend of mine had her 3rd child.  When I was visiting her in the hospital and holding her child, I briefly imagined what it would be like to have another.  Suddenly I realized we’d need a bigger car – oh no, the dreaded minivan! We’d also need a bigger house, and the vacations we’re planning would be delayed another few years.  Oh, and lets not forget that I’m fast approaching 40!  (But that’s another post.)

So today, as part of my desire to clean house and purge, I gathered up all my maternity clothes and took them to the local Goodwill store.  A friend of ours came by yesterday and picked up some of our baby gear, and the other stuff was taken off our curb within an hour of it being put out.  And, not only am I purging the material stuff, I am also on a mission to purge the extra baby weight I’ve been carrying around since my daughter was born.  I’ve started riding my bike this month and I am determined to join another friend in her weekly boot camp, starting tonight!

Wish me luck.

The Paradox That Is Vacation.

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So, I’m on vacation for a month.

I got another doctor to cover my practice. I’m paying her a ridiculous amount of money but it’s the going rate these days for a locum, so I don’t have much of a choice.  Still, it’s so nice not to have to worry about work.

I love lounging in the backyard in a t-shirt and shorts every day.  I love having a beer at noon just because I can.  The weather has been great and I’m getting a great tan.  The kids are having a ball, and overall life is pretty darn good.

But why oh why am I more tired this week than when I’m at work???  What is up with that?!  I’m going to need a vacation after this month is over.  Seriously!  And it’s only been a week?!  If I am this tired now, how the hell am I going to feel in 3 weeks?!