So in our company of 5,000 we decided to do a fundraiser called Workout for St. Jude. We did it in a crunch, giving people about a week to disseminate information and then two weeks to do the actual fundraiser. And uh...I don't think anyone is really doing it. So about four days before the end of the two weeks, I decided to put in a desperate plea on Facebook for people to donate to my efforts. And then I made some promises--namely, that in the last three days, I would walk 5 miles a day each day. 15 miles in 3 days from the 5-months pregnant lunatic who has worked out maybe 3 or 4 times her entire pregnancy.
On day number one, I worked until 10 p.m., which is when my husband was getting home. I rushed home to spend a little bit of time with him before he went to sleep and after he was asleep, I went to the gym to do my 5 miles. Ouch. Painful. And it took me 80 minutes. I've definitely slowed down compared to pre-pregnancy. As I got off the treadmill and limped my way out of the gym to the car, I felt proud that I'd done day one.
But I have to say, one of the best parts of day one was seeing my husband's reaction as he got ready to go to bed around 11 and realized I hadn't done my 5 miles yet. It was really sweet and protective. He was very concerned that I was going to be out so late, especially after he was already asleep. But I had to do my 5 miles. I'd already committed and several friends had combined donated over $100 at this point.
On day number two, I worked until 8 p.m. We had issues at work which necessitated me staying that late on a Friday night. I was really sad because Friday is the night I get to spend with my husband, but I was exhausted too, so I went home and we lazed around the house for several hours. At which point I heard a few more lectures about the dangers of being out late at night. But my husband is a morning person and after a few minutes, he was out cold on the couch. So I got up, got dressed, and went to the gym. This night, I had to pause halfway through my workout to go buy a protein bar. Pregnancy does that to you--makes you starving at the most inopportune times. After a total of 90 minutes on the treadmill, I'd done my 5 miles and again limped home.
Day number three came. It was Saturday and I had all day to get in my workout like a normal person. I went and did two miles earlier in the day to spend a little time in the sun. It took me about 40 minutes. Then that evening, after doing some grocery shopping--and having to leave early because I was so hungry I felt nauseated--and eating dinner and hanging out, it was time for the gym. This time my husband came with me. It took me 60 minutes on the treadmill to finish my last 3 miles, but I did it! I was completely limping walking out of the gym this time, so exhausted, but my sweet husband was so supportive and really proud of me. And I think I raised $445 total (One of my friends amazingly donated $200!!!! He thought his donation was anonymous, but I guess as the fund raiser, I could see who donated.), so all in all, it was a wonderful and successful experience.
And now I REALLY waddle like a pregnant woman.
You go girl. That is some serious dedication right there.
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