Battling the 'baby' bulge

    So, since my baby was born four months ago, I have had the deep desire to return my "post-baby" body back to its former goddess-like state........Okay, so it was never 'goddess-like' but it WAS better than the deflated, and smushy aftermath that childbirth left me with. Don't get me wrong, it was worth EVERY pound I gained, to have my baby healthy. BUT, did you know that out of all the weight  you gain while pregnant, you only lose like 10 pounds of it when you give birth!! Carry around a big sack of potatoes every day and at the end of nine months, take out about three of the potatoes. That is what its like!
        I searched and found a breakdown of where the weight comes from, and its all two to three pounds here and there. Extra blood volume, amniotic fluid, uterine increase, and then of course the weight that belongs to the baby herself. It adds up to a tidy little number......until you add, the FAT STORES! it is supposed to be something like 8-10 pounds, at MINIMUM!   THAT is the culprit people!  I will grant that I got very lucky with my last pregnancy and did not gain more than was required. I was VERY happy with that.
          But now, here I am. four months later. STILL working on that STUPID 8-10 pounds of FAT STORAGE!! I want it gone and then some! SO, I make myself do something that I have always, ALWAYS loathed, despised and abominated............I work out. I find that the irritation frustration unadulterated fear, of how I look in a swimsuit outweighs my deep hatred of exercise. I WANT to look decent again, I WANT to look down and NOT see the little bit of tummy pooch that is stubbornly still there! And so, I don my shorts, SUPER, supportive, sports bra, a t-shirt, find my ipod and get my shoes on. I then begin to psyche myself up. I stretch, contemplate eating a cookie, do some crunches and push ups, get up, center my chi, take one wistful glance at my sofa, turn on my ipod, take a deep breath AND....... begin running. The first minute or so is the easiest. Then my asthma kicks in and I have to focus on regulating my breathing pattern so I don't collapse. Then I turn to ignoring the pain in my hips/lower back, leftover from being pregnant. After a little while I fall into a relatively pleasant pattern (BREATHE *step* *step* *step* BREATHE...) Before I know it I have reached my one-mile-marker and I think "hmmm, I can go a little farther...." so I do. Each time I go I feel like I can go just a little more. Eventually I have to stop  running (because of the asthma thing) and start walking. I continue walking for probably another two miles and feel like a warrior of some sort, perhaps a ninja or samurai, or maybe a knight, battling the 'dragon' that is my baby weight! (Take THAT you self-esteem killing, beast living beneath my stretch marks!) I make it back to my house, and down water and gatorade, as though I were Bear Grylls who had just spent the past three days in the sahara. I feel triumphant! I have CONQUERED my work out for the day! I feel like I might just be a 'normal' person who can just casually 'go running' on a daily basis. I resolve myself to be that way, and go about the rest of my afternoon.
   By the next day the whiny little kid in me rears its defiant little head, and I have to start the process all over again......