Fitness Freak.

In the time between having Eli and Kayla Rose I started going to the gym.
It's was super hard work, but I loved it. I had energy for the first time in my life. I was losing weight. I felt good.
I loved the feeling of walking just that little bit further/faster on the treadmill. I loved knowing the routine in class. I loved having time that was only for ME. 


One day when I was about 7 weeks pregnant I attended my favorite class. Body Balance. The next day I started bleeding. It was the beginning of my miscarriage. Ultrasounds showed that the baby had died about a week earlier. The following few days were physically painful, the following months were emotionally excruciating. Long after everyone thought I was fine I was still broken inside. I didn't understand it. This wasn't something that happened to me. This was something that only happened to other people. We named our baby Hope. And I know that she is safe in the arms of Jesus waiting for the day when we can be reunited.


I tried going back to the gym, but it wasn't the same. Although I know that me doing that class didn't cause the loss of our precious one, I still link the two events in my mind. But now I'm a tired mumma of three. My fitness has plummeted. I miss the high after a workout. I miss the feeling of sore muscles the day after you've gone for it hard. I miss having that time that was for no one but myself.  


I want to go back. I want to fit a work out into my schedule. I want to have the motivation to go. I know that if I could just go back I would get my fitness mojo back. I think it's time I stopped being jealous of other people for having energy for the gym and drag my saggy mum butt into the air-conditioned treadmill comfort.

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