I am on the treadmill.  ThudThudThud go my feet.  I am miserable, sweating, triumphant.

This hour is for me.

All the clothes I wash. Lunches I pack. Dinners I make. Diapers I change.  Noses I wipe. Groceries I buy. Hours I work.  Nights I rock.  Mornings I wake.

This one single hour is for me.

I run this endless list in my head so I do not feel guilty.  Me is not a word I know very well anymore, but I am getting to know it again, just for one hour. 

One hour makes me better, faster, stronger.  One hour makes me okay again.  Small thing, but huge thing. 


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