I am claiming my body back. After two years of being pregnant and breastfeeding, at last , my body is mine oh mine. It’s a bit wobbly, and not what it used to be, so I am going on a 14 day fitness kick.

I started last Sunday with a swim. I ran yesterday with Greg and the pram, and this morning I broke free, and ran alone along Gap Road, turning only when I reached the point when the horizon becomes the sea. It felt so good. My muscles buzz with physical activity. I plan to run or swim every day for 14 days. On alternate days, I will do squats and other strength building exercises.

Even when I was pregnant and breastfeeding, I remained active – walking a lot, and once my pelvic floor had strengthened, running. But it’s different now. I can put everything into it – my energy is not required elsewhere.

After 14 days, I will have completed marathon. I can join the ranks of my half-brother and brother-in-law who do iron men. (Eek. That level of physicality is unimaginable.)

I come from a family of athletes. My uncles are all runners and rugby players. My brother is a personal trainer. My mum used to play hockey at state level. Greg is from a family of pro-skiers and table tennis champions and he and his sister used to play squash at a national youth level. Even Elka is a master of gymnastics, especially somersaults. In 14 days time, I will be putting my name on the wall too.

It feels good, coming back into my body again, after sharing it for so many months. The wind rushing past my ears, iPod tuned to shuffle.

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