When I signed the termination agreement truncating my leasehold at the last apartment I'd (ever?) rent, I also severed my longtime relationship with the gym. No matter where the most recent landlord-tenant relationship had roots, there was always a treadmill, elliptical machine and stationary bike a stone's throw from my door. This facilitated keeping trim while pregnant, burning off the Crumbs cupcake binge that resulted from Bar study, and overall mental calm.
Without the time to drive to the nearest gym, and with the added guilt of a making a regular payment to someone other than Wells Fargo, a monthly membership is not currently in the cards. Whats a girl with a closet stocked with clothes that must always fit to do? Run outside!
Day 1 was pleasant, I made my way to the nearby beach and along the ocean path in Sea Cliff. Day 2 brought some stiffness and complaints. After day 3 of this great new plan, I have sore shins, I must hold on to the railing when climbing my new staircase, and I can't sit down to put the baby's shoes on without wincing in pain and assistance from my partially blind husband (he is still healing from surgery). Im not sure what this 'runner's high' I hear about is, but this can't be it. I've felt better than this after a glass or two of Chardonnay. I think that those great elliptical machines I saw in Sears (yes, I went to Sears last week for a garage door remote) are a better choice for my waistline, and I'll stick to my California whites for the lift.