I'm a planner.
I make lists.
I know tonight what I'm wearing to work tomorrow. I set self-imposed deadlines for tasks I'd like to accomplish, and you could set your watch by my daily routine.
Ask my parents and they will tell you I have always been this way.
I was the kid who completed book reports months in advance, the girl whose friends used to rearrange her music collection for fun because she alphabetized it.
So, naturally, I bring the same planning zeal to my workout routines.
Only there's one, minor hiccup: I am also the mother to a toddler.
While I think I have a very easy child, he is still only a two year old. He's cute, and smart, and funny, but often unpredictable.
A normal day with a toddler is like setting out your dinner table with your finest linens and good china only to learn at the last second that your guests are like whirling dervishes.
Some days, sir toddler will allow me to push him a few miles in the stroller to fit in my run -- other days he will scream like a banshee and pronounce "no running today, Mama!"
Some days, he's a sweet little boy trying to mimic a yoga posture I'll try to sneak in while he's busy building a Lego tower, and other times he will run full-force at me in the same yoga pose yelling "I'm a tractor, Mama, pretend you're a pile of rocks!"
And, because I love my son more than anything, I will never say no to being his pile of rocks.
So, I often have to eek out time for a workout when he's asleep, or running errands with Daddy, or running over the other piles of rocks in his life (such as his grandparents).
This is where my planning comes in handy.
Logistically, my crew and I do a delicate daily dance.
I wake at 4 a.m, to an alarm that only vibrates so as not to disturb the sleeping husband, dog, or toddler in the house. I've already laid out everything I need for the day so that all I have to do is throw on clothing and push "brew" on my coffee and I'm out the door.
Hubby will get the toddler off to school right around the time I'm out of my first meeting at work.
I put in a full day and leave at 4 p.m., since I'm in charge of pick up from school. By the time we all get home, we are all exhausted and it's all we can do to eat dinner, read books and do bath and bedtime.
Every weekday goes like this.
I'm very lucky to have a solid support system. My entire family knows how important finding time to exercise is to me, so they help in any way they can to make it happen.
And, because of that, I do everything I can to make sure my husband has time to do all the things he wants to do for himself, too. It's only fair, after all.
There's no way I could do half of what I want to do without help from my family and friends. Somehow, though, we make it all work.
And there's always plenty of time left for knocking down giant piles of rocks.
Who supports you the most?