Archive | Running RSS feed for this section

In the Rain

27 Sep

I think when I am older, and reflecting back on those “crazy” days of young motherhood, I will rather like my memories of tonight.

The sky was light charcoal, the rain opening down on the field. Aidan was dressed in soccer cleats and I had just laced up my hot pink running shoes. He ran back and forth across the field, scoring a goal at one end, fighting to defend at the other. I looped around the three youth-sized fields over and over, at first warming up, then running a couple of miles at race pace.

The precipitation never let up, and neither did our determination. He was in his world doing his thing, I was in mine. But there was never much distance between us. I could see him from most angles of my run and, when he had a moment to break, he looked up and waved in my direction.

One of the most imporant lessons I’m trying to teach him is that he is not responsible for my happiness, nor am I for his. I gave birth to him, of course, but the life he leads is his. I guide him, shape him, show him unconditional love, support him.

But ultimately I am giving him a foundation to be independent. I know I am not like the other mothers there, the ones under golf umbrellas, just watching their little ones move across the field. In my own way, however, I am always there. I am multi-tasking per usual, getting my work out in while he practices. I want him to be okay without me, but I always want to be close enough to sprint to his side if he needs me – metophorically and literally. 

After his practice, we were both pretty drenched. As every other child scampered towards the parking lot, Aidan looked at me through wet lashes, “Mom, will you just practice with me a little while longer?”

It is my inner hope that he sees me circling the field and doesn’t think his practice is anything less than important to me. Instead it is my wish he is motivated by his mother’s drive to balance being a good mother and being a whole person on my own.

The Head Case Strikes Again

25 Sep

Despite the fact I shaved off another 11 seconds in six days, I’m really quite disappointed with myself.

I ran the latest 5k in 22:01 – just over the 22 minute goal I’ve been trying to break en route to my goal of sub 20 minutes.

I’m not disappointed because I ran 22:01, or even because I was so close to breaking 22. I’m disappointed because I got 2nd place. And I could see the girl who beat me nearly the entire race (I led for a short while). I made up a good 15 – 20 seconds near the end, closing the gap. But it wasn’t good enough. She beat me by five seconds.

FIVE. SECONDS.

It’s haunting me today. Which is a good thing – I definitely care.

For the record, the race in general was quite slow. I shouldn’t have even had a shot at winning at that pace. But I did have that chance, and I didn’t do it.

I could argue all sorts of true things – I’ve been taking it easy training after a knee injury, I’m only running 15 miles a week or so, I waited too long to kick, because I definitely kicked harder.

But the only thing that matters is that I didn’t push myself hard enough. I pushed myself hard – I was tired at the end. Even so, I can honestly say I’ve never finished a race without something left in the tank. I always have more.

My wonderful husband AKA pacer helped push me through the race. At the end, he had these loving words for my disappointment, “You know, I just haven’t seen you grimace at the end…I want to see you finish a race and puke.” (In full disclosure, he was extremely supportive the entire race and told me how proud of me he was before making this comment.)

So that’s my new goal. Run so hard, so tough that I give my husband the pleasure of seeing me hurl at the finish line. I’ll keep you posted.

September Days

19 Sep

When I’m gone from the blog for more than a week, I always feel a self-imposed need to explain why.

But there’s no “big” news. We haven’t been on vacation; nothing out of the ordinary has happened. We’ve just gotten caught up in all the small, beautiful parts of life. Because it is all rather random, I give you the catch up bullet point style…

  • Aidan plays soccer three times a week – it’s time-consuming, but awesome. It’s so fun to watch him improve, and I embrace the role of mom cheering on the sideline. (Kyle embraces confirming the ref is making the right call, which I love.)
  • Summer has quickly faded to fall. We find ourselves living in the enjoyable land of sweatshirts, football, cooking, baking, bonfires, pumpkin painting and apple picking. I adore this time of year. We made a trip to Cranes over this past weekend to get some of the Honeycrisp apples and another bag that will turn into apple crisp later this week.
  • I raced yesterday morning and dropped a minute and a half off my 5k time (as compared to six weeks ago). I’m down to 22:12. For those of you that remember my 30 before 30 list, I’m 2 minutes and 13 seconds away from my goal. That’s a LONG ways to go, but I’m making progress. If I could stop arguing with myself in my head while I’m running, I think my body might get me there.
  • I’ve started crocheting a scarf – the first of the season. I want to learn to knit this year, even though I’ve had several failed attempts in the past. Does anyone have a brilliant resource for learning to knit (geared towards uncoordinated persons)?
  • While I wasn’t blogging over the last week and a half, I was channeling all my writing energy into a piece I submitted for a REAL SIMPLE writing contest. In the event it doesn’t make the winner’s circle, I’ll post it here. It’s a piece about my lovely relationship with my friend K.
  • After being glued to my iTunes pre-wedding, then taking a break, I’m back to seeking out new music. I’m loving this song, and pretty much the whole album it comes from (Foster the People – Torches).

Nothing incredibly exciting…we’re here, we’re living and loving and taking in each moment for all it’s worth. There is something to be said for the pleasure that comes in the every day. Enjoy your week!

Why I Run

8 May

More than 30,000 people.

20+ mph winds.

A lap around the Indy 500 track.

An elephant at the zoo staring me down within the first 10 minutes.

Someone with grey hair braided down past their butt.

Elite athletes.

Obscene amounts of Gatorade.

Bands and cheerleaders.

Everyone going for the same goal, at widely varying paces.

That was the setting this morning for the half marathon I ran in Indianapolis.  I wish I had a story about how fantastic it was but, really, it wasn’t.  It was cold, it was incredibly windy (so much that I told my mom and sister not to come down with Aidan, because it would’ve been miserable for them) and my knees decided to act up on me right around mile two.  Yes, mile two.  Of 13.1.  Right around mile nine, as I was pushing against the wind, I was downright unhappy.  But the feeling of crossing the finish line is worth it, every single time.  Even though I kept my pace under two hours, I was disappointed in not being able to best my other half marathon time.  But the disappointment of not running as well as hoped never outweighs the thrill of finishing another race. 

Why do I do it, you ask?  Why do I subject myself to the unpleasant temperatures and pain and exhaustion?  This is why:

Shoes laced up, I take off.  In that moment it doesn’t matter that I’m a single mom.  I am not defined by my job or income.  I do not care what my hair looks like, if my running shorts match my top or if my appearance is pleasing to the eye.  All my worries seem less important when I go out to run–the things I haven’t checked off my to-do list aren’t weighing me down and I’m not contemplating tomorrow’s tasks.  There is something magical about runner’s high that only other runners understand.  When my feet hit the pavement…I’m free.

The Edit

4 May

As I was trimming some lilacs yesterday to put in a vase, a neighbor stopped by.  I hadn’t talked to this particular woman in a while, and we struck up a conversation.  I’m not entirely certain how we wound around to this, but I ended up discovering she and her husband had both previously been married before they found each other.

Really?

I never would have guessed.  They are the happiest-looking couple with three nice, well-mannered children.  They’re simple and lovely.

I discovered what I thought I wanted in a partner wasn’t really what I wanted at all.  And I admit I’m still figuring out exactly what I’m looking for.  But doing it wrong once is definitely helping me on the path to getting it right.

The same thing is happening with the novel I’m working on.  For every few hundred words I get out, I seem to be going back and cutting nearly as many.  But I’m learning so much about myself, what writing process works for me and how I can improve.

Last year I was training for a 25K and injured my knee.  I pushed too hard, I didn’t stretch or cross-train enough and I got hurt.  This year I’ve been extra careful to cross-train, to give myself time to stretch over logging another mile and to back off on the days I’m just not feeling it.  I’m running a half marathon on Saturday and I’m in the best running shape I’ve been in since Aidan was born.

I kind of wish I didn’t have to learn my lessons “the hard way,” but maybe that’s how they really stick.  I’m starting to actually fall in love with the edit, both in written form and in life.  I’m giving myself permission to do it wrong.  And then to turn around, learn a little something, and be increasingly pleased at my next attempt.

Have you ever done something all wrong and eventually had it turn out for the better?

← Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.