Sunday marked the day that I, along with about 25 other group fitness instructors, headed to Kansas City for a day (9 hours, to be exact) of grueling, intense, sweaty, insane, super-freaking hard exercise classes.
You know, we paid money for this.
The day started early - an early trip to Dunkin' Donuts (for coffee, not donuts) began at 530am and we headed out of town. Upon arriving in Kansas City, we were greeted by other insane women and men who also paid money for the same grueling treatment from some of the fitness industry's biggest and most bad-ass stars.
Did I mention we paid money for this?
But what an amazing day. And after 9 hours, 4 outfit changes, 2 showers and a whole puddle of sweat, I arrived home. Very tired. Very ready for a(nother) shower. Very ready for bed.
How is it, then, that I could wake the next day feeling refreshed and ready to go, when there are days that being at HOME for 9 hours wears me out more?
The diaper changes. The bottles. The arguing. The laundry. The grocery shopping. The cleaning. The homework. The after-school activities. The arguing. The meal planning. The baths. The chore discussions. There are days when the day-in-day-out tasks truly wear on me more than NINE HOURS OF WORKING OUT. I cant seem to wrap my finger around that one.
Oh, I love it all. Love being home for the kids and doing the mommy thing. Love watching them play sports. Thoroughly enjoy taking Libby and Connor on a run with me. Love having those moments.
But it's the others...the other moments that, I believe, may turn my thoughts back to Sunday, August 22. And dare I say it? I may wish I had a day of rest like that day once again...sweaty and all...