My inner gymnast vs. my inner hurdler.

The Olympics has me thinking about my inner gymnast vs. my inner hurdler.

Don’t laugh, but as long as I can remember I have always had this visual in my head that goes along with the feeling of a job well done, an accomplishment reached, a goal achieved.  Instead of patting myself on the back (who does that), I always picture myself as a gymnast (I can’t believe I am sharing this with you).  A gymnast dressed in a sparkly leotard, running fast, doing a triple-super-duper-mega-loopy- loop twist-flip-spin super high up in the air and sticking the landing. Then just for dramtic effect I hold that landing for two seconds and when I’m ready and steady, my hands fly up, cameras flash, crowd goes wild. Yep. That’s how it goes. Feels great every time.

I haven’t had too many of those moments lately.  My internal gymnast has turned into a hurdler and not a good one. My hurdles this month have felt more like mountains and I am not leaping over them Olympic style, instead I am crashing and burning over most. But what can you expect, I am trying to jump them in heels and a skirt, with a baby in my arms.  Too exhausted to run, I just stand in front of most lifting one leg over at a time. Others, I’m just being shoved through and as soon as I get past one BAM! there’s another.  Just when I think I can’t do it again, I take a breath, sing that pesky song I learned in elementary school, you know the one, “can’t go under it, can’t go over it, got go through it."  Through it. Gotta live through it. So instead of leaping, soaring over, I just have been plowing through.  It’s not pretty, my performance certainly will not win me any medals, but some how I'm doing it, I'm still in the race. 

I have been back at work for one month.  My goal when I first returned was to make it through the first month, before I had a self “check-in” to re-evaluate my decision to be a working mom. I gave myself time to be miserable, to adjust, and to find out how strong I really am. So here I am a month later looking back at some of those brutal hurdles, battle wounds still a little fresh, out of breath, exhausted, but stronger.  I’m not just an anxiety attack in a dress anymore, it’s getting better, it’s getting easier.  It feels right, it’s hard, but sometimes the most worthwhile things are. I say keep those hurdles coming universe! Because the more I practice I get, the sooner I’ll be jumping high and sailing through, heels, dress, baby and all!