Workout 120723: Mom Anxiety

This Saturday marked a new routine for me and my oldest.  Bean and I had breakfast at home, got dressed for the gym and got there in time for the 2-3 year old class.  Just like last week, her class got combined with the later 4-5 year old class.  She still loved it.  While she was being entertained, I decided to try a day of cardio:

15 min Treadmill - Hill Setting level 4
20 min Arc Trainer - Interval Setting level 3
5 min Teadmill Cooldown
Stretch

It was wonderful.  I really like starting my Saturday out this way.  Afterwards I showered and Bean and I headed to the grocery store.  This is turning into a solid Saturday morning routine for me.  The only hard part is getting home at 12:30pm with a starving kid.  This coming Saturday we are going to make a serious attempt to be at the gym earlier.  Bean's class isn't what is keeping us at the gym so long; it's me and my need for a shower after working out.  And I'm not about to give up that luxury.

There was only one part of the Saturday excursion that really got under my skin.  As I was getting lathered up in the shower, I head a kid start crying.  It was a young child.  It was either hurt or scared.  Very obviously distressed.  When I'm working out at 5:30am, there are no kids in the gym.  Saturday morning is a very different time.  There are lots of kids.  One of them was mine.

As I stood in the shower, I caught myself listening intently for the cry.  I started hurrying to get done with my shower.  What if that cry was my girl?  What if she'd fallen on the stairs?  What if she was scared by someone?  The child continued to cry and I continued to get more and more worked up.  I started counting the minimal number of steps it would take me to get ready enough to leave the locker room and go find her.  I debated walking out into the gym before I was even dressed.

I stopped myself.  I had to.  My child was left with qualified adults.  I noted where I would be in the building.  There are intercoms.  And someone would come into the locker room to find me if my child really needed me.  Not to mention, this didn't sound like my kid.  It was too young.  The cry was of someone newly verbal.  I could hear all this and still my heart raced and I wondered...  Is that my kid?

Eventually I did calm myself down.  And I finished my shower taking all the steps that I usually take getting ready for my day.  The child stopped crying and no one came to find me.  I walked upstairs and there was Bean, happily playing with all the other kids.  She proudly reported eating her whole snack and holding the purple part of the parachute.  All was well.  She was better than fine; she was happy.  I might have shortened my life by a few minutes with all the freaking out, but I'm earning those back these days.  It's a process, but it sure does make me wonder how I'm ever going to make it through the next 18 years.  *sigh*

---
I'm taking part in Stop By Saturday's again over at Does this scale make me look fat?  The question this week: What is your exercise of choice?  For me it is strength training right now.  I love the cardio machine, but I can see how they get boring.  Try me in a couple more months and I may say the same about Lunges, but right now...  They are just so cool!  Maybe it is a side effect of not being able to do so many of these things no very long ago.