As you know, I was in Utah for most of last week visiting my brother and cheering him on during his college graduation from BYU.
When I went to BYU seventeen years ago (choke!), I had no car, therefore I didn’t get to venture out much other than the Varsity theater, watch cheap shows at the HFAC, play late nights of SkipBo with my roommates, and eat lots of Fruit Loops at the Cannon Center. I had always planned on hiking Y Mountain, but before I knew what had happened, I got swept off my feet by this handsome boy from AZ with clear blue eyes, transferred to ASU, finished my Bachelor’s as a Sun Devil, and married him. There are so many things in Provo I’d always planned on doing (performing with the Osmonds, having lunch with Robert Redford, ski jumping in Park City, you know, the usual stuff), but never got the chance to. Hiking the Y was definitely one of them.
By the time I got from the car to the head of the trail I was already sucking wind. What the heck?!? The trail is a moderate level, although pretty steep hike with switchbacks all the way up. As I was practicing my lamaze breathing techniques on one of the blessed benches along the trail, a kind lady generously gave me another justification for all my huffing and puffing: the increase in altitude. Sweet! San Antonio sits at 700 ft. above sea level and I was hiking at 8,500 ft. Just add that excuse to the list!
After a slow hike with many rests, we did make it to the top of the Y. The view and extended time with my brother and his sweet girlfriend was well worth the accelerated heart rate and tender calves the next morning.
I will admit, however, there were many times I had to put the mental whip down and just let myself take my time up that mountain. In fact, I find myself doing that a lot this pregnancy. I think this fourth time around, I’m finally learning to be a bit more patient with myself and life in general.
In most areas of my life, I am a rather intense person who has pretty high — often ridiculously so — expectations of myself. This pregnancy I’ve let myself slow down, said no to many commitments, shelved many projects, and am focusing on the important stuff: family, home, and health. Call it maturity, AMA (Advanced Maternal Age), or probably just plain exhaustion, but I’m enjoying my time as the tortoise rather than the hare.
I need to remember this even after Baby #4 makes his/her debut in the fall.
Be more patient with myself and those around me.
Even though it may be slow, the movement is still forward and upward.
Not everything is a race.
How about you Fit Mommas? Have you ever had to force yourself, or been forced to slow down? Or chosen to stop beating yourself up about what you “should” be doing versus what you are doing?
Comment below and tell us WHAT WORKS!