12:02

Me: "Sir, what's our pace?"

Random Grandpa pushing jogging stroller who I've been trailing for 3 miles: "12:00, no 12:02."

Hmm.

Last year at this time I was tapering for Ironman. I happened to be pregnant and didn't know it. I would've warmed up significantly faster than this. I would've passed Grandpa and the toddler he pushed with no problem. I happened to be much faster, and much lighter at that. But today I was happy just to be out there- to feel the pavement under my feet, the sun beating down on my shoulders, my ponytail bobbing in the breeze, the oxygen flowing (quite strongly at that), and even the thighs rubbing!

I'll take the 12:00, no 12:02, pace for now. And I'll even take the chafing... for now. The bottom line is I laced up my shoes this morning, hesitantly kissed my son goodbye for a brief time of self-improvement, and I got back out there after a pregnancy induced hiatus. In time the pace will improve, the oxygen will flow more smoothly, and the thighs will shrink (won't they?). It will never be easy to walk away from my son for an hour, but it sure will be good for us all when this mama is fit and healthy.

So Grandpa- thank you for wearing your Garmin today and unknowingly encouraging me to keep up with you. See you on the Peninsula next Saturday!