Its been 10 years since my last running injury.

Now, I need to start off by saying that a large part of my last decade has been spent pregnant, nursing, sleep-deprived and totally unable unwilling to consistently run….no surprise that I haven’t pushed myself to the point of pain.

But this year, I have found my stride.  SweetBabyJ is two…and it’s been much easier to find time to train.  I’m fitter, and consequently faster, than I have ever been.  What started as a quest to reclaim my fitness and find a few minutes for myself has become an obsession…how much can I improve…seeking my potential.  I won’t know for years the outcome of my mothering style, but every day, every race I have a solid data related to my fitness.  I cling to this.

A few weeks ago (when I started writing this post), I twisted my ankle.  Nothing major, but it hurt enough to make me wince on stairs, and I had to take (gasp!) two days off from running.  In retrospect, it was the right decision, but at the time I agonized.  I had just decided to sign up for a November marathon (my first in nine years),  and I was so worried that this injury would scuttle my plans. What if it was a serious injury?  What if my missed runs impacted my ability to finish the marathon?  And on, and on, and on…(I’m a bit of a worrier)

Of course, I rested, I ran, and all was fine.  My time-out cleared my head and rested my body.  Just like with kids.  My children, precious angles that they are, have never responded well to discipline.  I’ve spent almost SIX years pulling out my hair out trying to figure out how to get my girls to LISTEN.  And no matter what method we try, we always come back to time-outs…getting the girls away from the situation so they can calm down and THINK.

Of course it doesn’t always work…and sometimes those injuries linger longer than one would wish.  But rest is a good thing…and something that in life and in motherhood, we just don’t get often enough.

One thing you should know about me:  I am NOT a morning person.

Of the five humans and two canines in the family, only Black Dog and I prefer to wake up after the sun.  J and the girls arise full of energy, ready to see what the day has in store.  And they fully expect me to be a part of the action.

I would really just rather sleep, thank you very much.

But, since I am a Good Wife and Good Mother, I drink a pot of coffee and get started…and before I realize it, I am in the groove and the day is rolling.

Long runs are kind of the same thing, aren’t they?  You may not be up for the miles, hills, and aches they bring, but once underway its really not so bad.  And every once in a while, you luck out and find a buddy.  Today, my friend Elle joined me for the middle of the run – those painful miles when legs start to talk back, and home seems so far away.  The mindless chatter of back-to-school and hurricane survival melted away the monotony, and I was able to finish strong.

My mommy-friends are the same…what a support network we’ve needed during these baby and pre-school years.  I can only imagine what curve-balls are coming with grade-school, but I know that talking it through over a bottle  glass of wine will make it more manageable.

Maybe that’s what makes the kindergarten transition so overwhelming.  I hate to be melodramatic (but I will be anyway, because that’s who I am) but seems similar to college.  We’re leaving behind all that’s safe and familiar and starting anew.  The scope of problems and setbacks appears larger.  The stakes are higher.

But my baby girl is not a baby anymore.  She’s ready, even if I am not.  She’s got the strength and energy, and I have to trust that I’ll have the endurance.  Because these years are not a sprint, even if looks like it in our mind’s replay.

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Weekly wrap-up:

• # Days Run:  5
• Longest Run:  15 miles
• Total Mileage:  49.2 (Personal Record!)
• Cross Training:  0 (Bleh!  Vacation & Irene derailled my plans)

My amazing father-in-law has Parkinson’s disease.  The troubadour who once climbed atop North America can no longer play guitar or speak to his grandchildren, but twenty-odd years ago he stood up in AA and told his story.  Thank goodness someone thought to record his words…we listened to them this week.  At the end of his talk, he quoted this poem by Helen Marshall, and I was struck by how perfectly it encapsulates my own philosophy towards running and life:

LOOK UP AND LIVE

This business of living was meant to be more
Than plodding along each day
With head bowed down and eyes on the ground,
While time ticks the hours away.

God made this world a delightful place
With beauty everywhere–
The grass, the flowers, the trees, the sky
The tang of clean, fresh air.

A world to be lived in, laughed in, loved,
To be met with joy and zest.
A world with a challenge for each of us
To give it out very best.

This business of living was never meant
As a treadmill sort of thing;
There are rivers to cross and mountains to climb,
And glorious songs to sing!

— Helen L. Marshall.