I am not a morning person. Never have been and never will be despite choosing a profession (teaching) that requires early rising. Now that I'm living with a 2-year old and a 2-month old, it's an amazing feat to sleep past 8. So let's just say that getting up in the morning to do a run isn't exactly my idea of fun. Not even close. It's even more difficult to get out of the house on time in the mornings, so I'm not sure why on earth I would meet Steph for a run at 10 a.m. Truth be told, despite Steph being the self-proclaimed problem child of the group, I was very, very, very close to begging off because it was just waaaaay too difficult to get all of the following done before 10:
1. Had to clean up infant puke off of myself, the infant, the chair, and the carpet
2. Had to chase down Miracle Kitty to shove heart medications down his throat and apply allergy goo to his head. This required moving the baby's crib since this is where kitty has decided to hide from me.
3. Needed to feed the baby (again) which is time-consuming because I'm nursing
4. Had to pump off the extra milk in order to run without pain and without looking like I'm groping myself.
5. Somewhere in between all of this I had to scarf down a few pancakes (quick shout out to my hubby for cooking breakfast!). I think I ate them standing up.
Somehow I managed to get dressed, brush my teeth and hair, and only need an extra half an hour. Thanks to Steph for being flexible, but I think I may be rethinking the sensibility of Saturday morning runs.
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