Getting caught in the rain (and accidentally running for the first time since the Little Miss was born).

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I went for a run yesterday.

Yes, thank you for your applause. Really, it’s not necessary.

It wasn’t on purpose. It was a total accident. Definitely not planned.

I was getting shitty about my recent lack of exercise. The Little Miss is always changing her day time sleep routine (I mean can I even call it that?) and I had stopped even thinking about getting on the treadmill. In all honesty, I’ve been tired and lazy and eating my body weight in carbs (and not even the good-ish ones).

So, when the Little Miss woke from a nap in the late morning, I had a choice between housework or self care. I obviously chose the thing that didn’t involve housework. Duh.

I threw on my old lady New Balance sneakers (really – I paid a bucketload for them to be fitted to my flat, broad motherfucking feet at Athlete’s Foot and then walked out of the store and saw an old hobo looking lady wearing the exact same ones with a muu muu), got the Little Miss ready and we were out the door.

The sun was shining, the Little Miss was absolutely loving the shit out of the fresh air and the trees (she frickin’ loves trees – it’s so awesome), and I was taking smug photos to post to my Instagram stories later because I’m a modern day social media user who knows it didn’t happen if you don’t humble brag about it.

I was stoked that the exercise endorphins were starting to kick in, and while I could definitely detect a distinct lack of fitness, I felt good! You know. When I wasn’t looking over my shoulder for potential murderers or baby stealers. It’s hard being a woman. But I digress…

The Little Miss and I were about half way home when she decided trees weren’t so awesome after all and squealing about the injustice of being stuck in a pram was, so I picked up my pace while trying to distract her by pointing out shit that she probably didn’t understand because she’s a baby and I’m a moron.

At some point, the sky began to sprinkle. Oh well, we’re not too far from home, I thought. The Little Miss was snug under the cover of her pram. I was alright in a hoodie and exercise gear.

I was wrong.

The heavens absolutely opened. We were well and truly getting caught in the rain (not a pina colada in sight). I tucked the Little Miss’ feet in nice and dry under her blanket, pulled the stroller cover over her as far as it would go (which all whiny babies really love – not!) and I bolted. I ran uphill super fast. I dodged little bits of tree debris from the latest storms, I huffed and puffed for a good 500m until we were at the front door of my house (hoping nobody saw me because what idiot doesn’t check the rain radar before taking a little human baby for a walk on a winter’s day).

I was gasping and sweaty and soaked. I checked the Little Miss and she was dry as a bone, so I didn’t feel like the worst parent at least.

All of this spontaneous running in the rain required a shower and entire change of clothing afterwards and just for a second, I felt like the old me again. The ‘me’ who had/made time to exercise enough to get sweaty (AND shower after). The ‘me’ who actually enjoys it. The ‘me’ who was able to go hard before surgeries and fertility treatments and pregnancy.

This made me (and my fitbit stats) really happy.

I think maybe I should do this on purpose again some time.

When is the last time you exercised by accident? 😝

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