Day 2 went considerably better than Day 1…at least in terms of fitness.
Did I get moving in time for the hour-long walk/run I had planned?
Absolutely not.
Instead, I made coffee, sat on my derriere for a solid 30 minutes feeling guilty, and then finally convinced myself to go for a 20-minute walk before work.
Not exactly Olympic training, but it was a win.
Then the real adventure began.
This week my little nugget (my 9-year-old son) is attending a summer camp through the university where I work. Normally it’s incredibly convenient.
Today…not so much.
After our hour-long commute, we pulled into camp and my sweet little nugget casually informed me that he’d forgotten his backpack.
You know…the backpack containing his swimsuit.
And his lunch.
Cue internal panic.
At this point I was mentally calculating my options.
Drive all the way home and miss half the camp while calling out of work?
Send him to camp where he’d spend swim time watching everyone else have fun while slowly starving to death? (Okay, maybe not starving, but he certainly would’ve acted like it.)
I walked into the check-in area and explained my dilemma to the staff member working the desk.
He looked at me like I had grown a second head.
“Why don’t you just go to Walmart?”
…
There was a Walmart ten minutes away.
Turns out panic temporarily erases all common sense.
So off I went.
Already running late for work, I found myself speed walking through a Walmart I’d never been in before like I was competing on Supermarket Sweep.
A manager noticed my frantic expression and asked if I needed help. Bless that man.
He must’ve had kids because he immediately understood the assignment.
Within minutes he had guided me to the cheapest swimsuit, towel, goggles, a Lunchable, and a bottle of water.
Crisis averted.
The damage?
About forty dollars and one valuable lesson:
Never trust a nine-year-old to remember literally anything.
I made it back to camp just five minutes before swim time started, dropped everything off, and then raced to work.
I only arrived about 30 minutes late.
Naturally, I took the back stairs so the entire office wouldn’t witness my walk of shame.
Four flights later, I sounded like a water buffalo giving birth.
Thankfully only my favorite coworker got to experience that performance.
Later that afternoon I had a break between clients and decided to squeeze in a 15-minute FitOn workout in my office.
Everything was going great…
…until someone knocked on my door.
I was convinced it was going to be whoever works in the office below mine asking about all the banging. (Let’s just pretend my jumping jacks were graceful.)
Instead, it was a coworker wanting to consult on a patient.
So there I stood…
Sweaty.
Out of breath.
Trying to casually explain that I wasn’t having a medical emergency—I was voluntarily exercising.
To their credit, they barely blinked.
So, all things considered, today was a success.
I got in a walk.
I finished a workout.
I took the stairs.
(Granted, the stairs were mostly motivated by avoiding public scutiny, but movement is movement.)
I’ll take it.
Dinner was another win.
I made one of our family favorites—Cheeseburger Tacos—and they disappeared faster than I could make them.
If you’re looking for a quick weeknight dinner that’s kid-approved and ridiculously easy, I highly recommend giving them a try. I’ll be sharing the recipe below.
As for tomorrow…
I’ve spent the past two days focusing on my health, so I think it’s time to tackle another one of my goals.
Which one?
Honestly, I have no idea.
But writing these daily posts is already doing exactly what I hoped it would.
It’s forcing me to keep showing up.
And for now, that’s enough.
