"Operation Hot Mother"

"Let's try to top that."

Let's be honest.

I have never had to lose weight. Well, not like this anyway.

When I was pregnant, I never gave much thought to my weight. Here's why:

• For the first three and a half months I was sick. I would throw-up every morning, sometimes three times, before making it to work at 6:45am. So, consequently, I would eat whatever didn't make me vomit (TMI).
• After that phase, I was mentally preparing for open fetal surgery. Weight wasn't really a concern for me all of a sudden. Actually, most everything in my life took a back seat suddenly.
• I was on bed-rest for the reminder of my pregnancy. And in the hospital. And lonely. And depressed. And those factors combined, make you feel like a milkshake for every meal is the only way to cope.

Thinking back to those hospital days, I realize that all of my muscle quickly deteriorated. My glutes and leg muscles were all but gone by the time I was discharged. And replaced with fat.

Although I believe in the power of positive thinking, it didn't really work in this situation. "When I'm not on bed-rest and can walk again, it will come off." Nope. "Oh, if I nurse that will take it off." That didn't work out either. "If I just eat less and go for walks with the stroller . . ." Nada.

When I came home from being in Utah for 3 weeks I had actually gained weight. GAINED! And to add insult to injury, Casey had been trail running with all of his free time and had lost a few pounds. And so had the dog.

THE DOG HAD LOST WEIGHT. I hate her so much sometimes.

And so, I have resorted--no, sunken to a new low. I have come to the conclusion that I must . . . run.

I hate running. A lot. I don't get a runners kick. I get bored. And it hurts. My pelvis shifted after surgery and even walking too much makes my hips hurt like the 30-year-old woman that I am.

But I refuse to buy a new wardrobe. And I am tired of being uncomfortable in clothes that are too tight.

Yesterday I went for my first run by myself. I ran as long as I could before the lungs burned and the hips hurt.

4 minutes.

And I swear Piper was laughing at me the whole time I pushed the stroller. "What is that panting noise you are making, mom?"

And so we start another, long, hard journey: Return the muscle that once was there and run more than 4 minutes.