Twenty Minutes of Freedom

Six months postpartum and I’ve decided to become a runner. This is hilarious because I have never been a runner. In high school I faked my period to get out of the mile run. But here we are.

Twenty Minutes of Freedom

It’s not about fitness (though my jeans would disagree). It’s about having twenty minutes where the only person who needs me is me. Twenty minutes where I’m not Elena the mom or Elena the nursing student or Elena the fiancée. Just Elena, breathing hard and probably looking ridiculous.

I made it twelve minutes today before I had to walk. Sophie was napping, Marcus was working, and I just… left. Put on shoes and left the house like a functional adult person. Revolutionary concept.

Tomorrow I’m aiming for fifteen minutes. The bar is low and I’m okay with that.