Let’s admit something right now. We’ve gained weight over the past 9 months, haven’t we Dads? I mean, why wouldn’t you have? I’m not sure you’d be a good husband, boyfriend, gay partner, one-nighter-knock-her-upper had you not gained weight while your spouse was pregnant. She’s going for that extra cupcake, you should have, too. Now look at you, you’ve gained a good 5 (10… 15?) extra pounds.

Here’s the biggest issue with getting back into the gym – the lady isn’t back in the gym. No, she’s stuck feeding. Sure she’s losing 800-1,000 calories a day from it, but it’s not the same.

I came upon this problem immediately after my wife gave birth.

You can’t tell by looking at me, but I’m a little obsessed with working out. You really can’t tell by looking at me, but I’m a lot obsessed with running. The first couple of runs I went on, man, I felt like shit because Dibs wasn’t with me. I’d come home and I could feel the resentment.

When I went back to work, it got worse. Now I’m not seeing Grayson all day. I definitely don’t want to come home and immediately go to the gym. By the time I shower and make dinner I’d get, what, an hour or two with him a day? That’s just not enough for me.

I keep going back to the 10 things post, which I’m forever going to call the 10 Commandments. It’s a good reference point, huh? Like I said, I get up with every feeding to change him and burp him. The other night I find myself awake at 6am, and I can’t go back to sleep.

“Honey, I’m going to go for a run.”
“Really? Whatever, I’m going back to sleep.”

Running that early in the morning in San Francisco is pretty great, by the way. The sun is coming up, people with sucky jobs are waiting for the bus and it’s cold. Meanwhile, Dibs and Grayson are asleep and I’ve missed nothing. More importantly, they didn’t even know I was gone.

Sounds simple, but man I hate waking up early. The main thing I’m learning right now is this new life is about adapting. I don’t mind that.

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