This morning when I dropped off my son at day care, I overheard one of the other moms say to her daughter, “Ok, let’s get to your classroom. I’ve got to make it to my spin class this morning.” I hate to admit this, but I felt a twinge of envy.
I’ve been swamped at work this month, and busy with holiday activities on the weekends, and my workouts have fallen by the wayside. The dark, chilly mornings aren’t exactly conducive to jumping out of bed at 6 a.m. to go running and I’ve hit the snooze button more times that I’d like to admit. I would love nothing more than to drop off my son and go for a run, or a spin or even a walk. It’s not that I don’t want to work, I just want to be able to workout, too (and not at the crack of dawn).
I often feel the same stab of jealousy when I see moms at day care dressed in their workout clothes and sneakers. I imagine them getting back into the car and driving to their favorite class or local trail to exercise, and, here’s the best part, for as long as they want. That’s also a part of my exercise fantasy—to be able to take a run without having to rush back home and shower and get ready and get breakfast and get to work. Oh, the luxury of working out without a schedule.
Now, I realize that I have no idea what these women’s schedules really are. Maybe they do have to rush back home after their spin class and take care of an infant or work from their home office or a do a million other things that moms are responsible for doing each and every day. But in my head, they are enjoying every sweaty second on their spin bikes without a care in the world.
I was discussing this with a fellow mom who works at home and she said that she often drops off her daughter in workout clothes. But not because she’s going for a run after, but because she didn’t have time to get dressed while she was getting her kids ready. So, she throws on her black running tights to look like she’s got it together and then heads home after drop-off to sit at her computer. So, next time I see a mom in workout clothes, I’ll try to keep that in in mind. Maybe those tight-fitting leggings and flashy sneakers aren’t a sign she’s got it all figured out—but that she’s struggling to fit it all in, just like me.