This is going to be a quick post because my old lady bedtime is rapidly approaching. But. I felt the need to document this day. Today is January 30th - one month since I began working out again in any kind of organized fashion. I've been lifting weights - usually for about an hour (more or less) three days a week and am now beginning a four days a week schedule. I'm enjoying it. I don't always WANT to go do it. I don't always FEEL like it, but I've been trying to make myself because usually once I get started, I've forgotten about the bad day I had or how tired I felt, and all I am is pumped to be squatting a heavier weight than the time before. I know this isn't a huge deal. Lots of people lift weights. But for me this past month has meant something.
It's the first month in a LONG time that I haven't focused on wanting a baby, trying to have a baby. And that my friends is huge. It's given me something else to do. Something else to feel passion towards. Something else to think about, to be excited about. It's the first time in a long time that I feel like adding to our family isn't the only thing out there. In fact, January 18th was one year since we found out we were pregnant last. And it didn't even hit me that day. I've thought about it, yes, but that day I didn't. I think we kind of forgot.
So yeah. I'm proud of myself because I've tried to be consistent. Today was my 15th weights workout over the past month. I'm excited to see even MORE progress to come!
And P.S. My goal is to eventually look like this without flexing. ;-)