A Case of the Runs

I'm going to join a gym again. The last time I set foot in one was in 2013 .  I worked out at home plenty, until Trimester 3 of my pregnancy adventure, and the past half year since his birth, working out has been sporadic at best. Since I set a goal back in April to work out at least once a week, I've actually made good it, sometimes even twice a week.  This is but a small fragment compared to my former life, documented on this blog and even before the blog. Realistically, I don't think I'm going to be a "regular."  My goal is actually 3 times a week.  Having a gym near my new office makes it possible for me to work out during the work day, because let's face it, all bets are off once I see my sweet baby. Getting this part of my life in order has been a pipe dream of mine.  Now that I'm settling into a new job and my pumping needs hopefully on the downslope now that Baby Tuesday has started eating (and is pretty darn good at it), I figured it

A while back , I posted about my current lack of exercise and vowed to work out at least once a week. The good news is, I've been sticking to that goal fairly well and have been squeezing in 15-30 minutes in a couple of times a week, along with walking that I get in during the daytime at work. There isn't much intensity in my workouts, and I definitely am not making any progress on the weight front.  However, it's something, and when you effectively have not slept in six months, something is better than nothing. Prolonged sleep deprivation has done a number of things to me.  For starters, besides exercise, food and eating, which were "up there" in my hierarchy of needs, is not as exciting to me anymore.  Actually, few things are exciting to me anymore, and that is pretty sad.  Given the choice between pretty much anything and sleep, sleeping wins, except I am terrible at sleeping during daytime hours, not like I have that luxury for the most part, anyway.