4 a.m. Coffee, Running Sneakers, and the Refuge of a One-Pot Meal

Summer is coming to a close, and the back to school and work transitions are underway. The pace of life is picking up again. Our summer roadtrips exploring Maine, Vermont, and the Adirondacks are aging into memory, and plans for next year's summer travels are beginning to take shape. Nights are even cooling off a bit.

With two little ones on board, this summer's trips meant lots of indulgence in fish-fry, homemade ice-creams, and other roadside treats. (I'm not complaining, believe me. I was a willing, often eager, participant with a keen eye for spotting lobster or ice cream signs off in the distance, and my pointer finger was sometimes a handier navigation tool than our faulty GPS.) Luckily our trips encompassed just a few weeks. We could have happily indulged in crispy batters and creamy cones for much, much longer.

But, upon arrival home, mirrors couldn't be avoided and the pinch of snug waistlines wouldn't be ignored. While the kids were as spry and lithe as ever (jealous!), my husband and I had to face the music. We'd gained a few unwanted pounds. I knew it was time for me to break out the sneakers and reacquaint myself with our treadmill. (That is, after I first converted it back from the clothes rack and dusty storage area it had become.)

To rev up, I made myself a promise. Fifteen minutes a day. No more than that and at whatever speed feels manageable. No lofty aims of sprinting this time. Just fifteen minutes. "You can spare fifteen minutes!" has become my morning mantra. So, what's happenin'? Well, it's been four weeks now, and hurrah! I'VE BEEN REALLY DOING IT!

Only, now there's one little snag. I'm headed back to work. I won't be continuing to exercise at  a reasonable, sane hour like say 7 a.m. or 8 a.m. Nope. More like 4:30, and that means a definite rising at 4 a.m. for a quick cup of coffee so I'm actually awake and don't kill myself on the thing. And this time shift makes me feel a smidge discouraged, cause I've tried the super early morning workout thing before and failed. Maybe some of you can relate. So far so good though. I'm five days in after the shift and holding strong. Three easy steps, right? Chug coffee.  Don running shoes. Do the fifteen. I can do this. I can do this. Even at 4:30. Even at 4:30? Well, we'll see.

And all of this exercise should be making me feel full of vim and vigor, right? Um, not so much. I mean, in the morning, yes. After work, depleted. After setting down the work gear, I'm just not feeling geared up to multitask for fancy meal preparations. I'm becoming a one-pot-meal mama. Like the other night, glancing at the produce I'd picked up earlier in the week (with more ambitious intentions), it came to me- frittata tonight. Grabbed some local eggs and milk out of the fridge, chopped up some leeks and red and yellow tomatoes,  a dash of Spike, some spinach and some grated New Zealand cheddar, and into the oven for 35 minutes or so. Voila! Everybody's happy, and I can crash on the couch for a catnap before the bedtime bath and book routine. Hey, if I can expand my one-pot repertoire, I might just be able to do this 4 a.m. thing after all.