One of the great advantages to having more than two adults in the house is that I've been able to go walking with Matt for two mornings now. He is an extraordinarily disciplined person. I think he wakes up at 4 in the morning, although I could have sworn this morning that it was 3 or something, and he probably exercises and reads the Bible and stuff like that while I sleep. Back in the day when we just had one baby, I went walking with him at 6 am. I was so dedicated that I even went sometimes by myself, straight up the hill behind our house, pushing the running stroller and then sitting down to a healthy and appropriately sized breakfast. And I got nice and thin, of course. Now, three babies later, or four, I guess, being unwilling to walk outside in the winter, or to push a stroller with more than one child in it, or really to wake up early, the days of walking together are essentially over.
But this morning, and Tuesday morning, I drug myself out of bed and lugged myself up the hill, leaving all the children behind. It’s not winter, and there was no need to bring the children because of our friends being here, and, as Matt pointed out, I was up anyway because of the baby.
It takes me half the walk to wake up and be pleasant. Matt walks fast up and down the hill smiling obnoxiously while I walk slowly up it. Once at the top he’s allowed to speak on a neutral subject and then, towards the end, we discuss the state of the world and the church. And by the end I’m shattered. Despite being promised increased energy and an overall glow of well being, the whole fact of having to exercise puts me in a bad temper (here it is, three hours later, and I’m still on the couch unmotivated to accomplish anything—I’ve already done so much, just by walking up that wretched hill.)
I am, however, willing to do it out of a deep abiding sense of personal vanity. I want to be thin, not only because it’s healthy, but because I’m traveling this summer, first to GAFCON, and then to Texas. And even though I know nobody else is worrying about how I look and how well my clothes fit, I’m completely preoccupied by these unimportant concerns.