At 40, I found myself utterly drained. Caught in the turmoil of a rocky marriage and juggling the demands of our fourth child, I felt like a walking zombie. The exhaustion of motherhood hit me like a ton of bricks, and I worried I might start wearing a “martyr” label like a badge of honor.
After countless hours of squats and lunges in my living room, I started to consider new ways to exercise. A gym membership? No thanks—I wasn’t keen on shelling out money. Swimming? Already done that. One day, while sprawled on the couch with the baby attached to me, I spotted my running shoes. Admittedly, I’d never considered myself a runner. Sure, I could manage a treadmill, but outdoor running had always been a painful affair filled with shin splints, earaches, and an array of discomforts. Clearly, I was not born for this.
But then, I realized running was free, and I already had the gear. I could simply step outside my front door and give it a shot. Plus, those ever-present Nike slogans seemed to be urging me to seize the moment!
So, I laced up and hit the suburban streets.
Initially, it was a struggle. I felt like a tree being uprooted or swaying helplessly in a windstorm—grace was not on my side. Yet, there was something rewarding about it. I returned home, drenched in sweat and panting, but feeling a sense of accomplishment. My body craved movement, and I was finally giving it that.
I established some simple rules that might help you if you’re contemplating a similar journey:
1. It’s Okay to Take a Break