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I use to wake up at 3:30 in the morning so I could be at the gym at 4:00. If it wasn't a gym day, I would sleep in until 5am and go for a run. I measured my strength by mileage and endurance and my dedication to it all. By those standards, I was just short of Wonder Woman (but not really cause I knew women FAR more fit than me). But then I had twins and sleep became the only companion I yearned for. Early morning workouts were gone and running was less frequent and not nearly as long. I was more kind to myself, because my life had changed and my priorities had shifted. I began to measure my strength on how many kids I could get out of the house on any given school day ON TIME while lifting and carrying a double stroller, a scooter and a skateboard out of their nighttime storage. Countless times I would high five myself because no one else was around. It was all me. Today, I turn 41 so I went for a run. 5 miles, a lot by my current standards. And I killed it. Not because I was fast but because I got my butt out there and ran, despite the urge to stay in and drink more coffee. And that is going to be my strength from now on, doing what I am meant to do without the self doubt and little voice telling me to stay home, where it is warm and so so comfortable.

So 41, you can thank me later cause it is gonna be a good year, makeup-less, messy and all.

 

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