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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