It sounds like a country song - probably because I'm pretty sure it is.
But country twang or not, it is certainly the truth.
It's funny how even really, really good things can steal little pieces of who you are. It happens a little at a time, so slowly you don't even notice they've gone missing.
Hang with me, I promise I'm going somewhere with this...
I went to the gym yesterday. Not the gym I had to go to over the summer because it's the only one I could find with daycare that worked for Leah. MY gym. The gym I used to go to before I was pregnant. And I took the class that I used to take at least 3 times a week pre-Baby.
|I don't have a single picture of me in work-out mode. So here's Jessica and me running the Bolder Boulder in May 2009. One of my favorite rituals, which I would LOVE to recapture, was our work-out and coffee Thursdays. Those were SO the days!|
And it was awesome.
Being in that gym and doing moves that felt familiar to my muscles even after all this time (cough - like 15 months - cough) felt like I might actually be in here still somewhere.
Not pregnant Melissa.
Not new-mom Melissa.
Not the Melissa who can barely multitask anymore.
Not the Melissa who looses her keys.
Not the Melissa who randomly forgets words and calls everything "thingy."
Not Melissa who worries about things like milk supply and breastpumps.
Not the Melissa who worries all the time about everything.
The me that I was for 25 years. The me whose body belongs to, well, me. The me who is strong and tough and healthy - and for no one else besides myself.
The new Melissa is improved in many ways, and frankly, I wouldn't trade where I am now for anything in the world. But it is nice to know that the old Melissa isn't completely gone. It's taken 18 months to find her, but she's still in there.
Goal for the new year (and OHO, what a goal it is!): Go to the gym three times a week. This means getting up at - gulp - 4 am Mondays and Wednesdays. Hey, you never know until you try, right?