At long last, almost three months after starting, I’ve come to my final 2012 resolution. Clearly, I could be doing a better job documenting the journey!
I started this blog for my daughters. I hope to have some record of the thoughts and philosophies that bounce around in my head. I want them to understand the connection between me as an individual (i.e. runner) and me as a mother. And I want them to see how vitally interconnected these two personas are.
I could not be the runner I am today without first being a mother. Motherhood has given me strength, grit, and endurance that I utterly lacked. Since becoming a mom, I’ve stopped expecting much in the way of physical comfort (try saying ‘no’ to three little munchkins that all want to sit on the same lap at the same time!). I’ve stopped expecting solid, long periods of sleep. I do not rest. I clean the same messes and wipe away the same tears – hour after hour, day after day. I am a doctor, a nurse, a teacher, a counselor, a guardian, a disciplinarian, a spoiler, a chef, a recycler, a housemaid, a laundress, and the biggest cheerleader these girls will ever have.
But I could not be a good mom without my running. It’s in those runs that I find my rest. In the miles and the footfalls, I find my peace. It is in the hills and across the streams that I find my soul. I return to the chaos ready, and thrilled, to tackle the day
I am really, really bad about taking pictures. Even worse about organizing them. The girls’ baby books gather dust, incomplete. But when I open the images saved on the computer and scroll through the last six years, I see how far we’ve come. This little, srawny infant:
is now in kindergarten.
This heartbreakingly young couple:
have 15 years under their belts, have built a home, a business, and family of five.
It’s in this reflection that I can see what we have done.
I must admit I am a bit down today. Last weekend’s race, which I scrapped in deference to my aching achilles, still chafes a bit. I wanted to be there, on the trails, having fun. Instead I sat on the sidelines. Promised Land, a gorgeous 50K, is coming up next month. I know I can’t run it. Aside from my aches and pains, there are several family obligations that take precedence. But it still rankles me to think about missing the fun.
But there is a blessing in these missed opportunities. The chance to rebuild, to make myself stronger. I’ll take a deep breath, and know that there will be other races, other adventures.
And if I keep my resolution to document the journey, through words and pictures, maybe I can look back at the trail this time next year and see how far we have come.