Happy Mother's Day...Keep Running!

I have tons of Mother's Days ahead of me. Still, I think I've already gotten the perfect gift. 

Encouragement.

Earlier today, my husband and children presented me with hand sanitizer, a water bottle, popcorn, and a runner's watch. 

Part of what made this year so fun was my almost 3-year-old's excitement over the gift he chose all by himself. "Mama. You have hand sanitizer!" 

And my 6-year-old picked the water bottle because it has a straw and is blue, his favorite color.

 

What made this year so great wasn't just that the boys picked out the gifts, but it was the choices they made. Everything encourages me to continue lacing up my "race shoes," as my younger son calls them, and stick to my training. 

It hasn't always been fun, and the past week was particularly tough. But the next time feel like I want to quit mid-run, I can check my watch, have a sip of water, and know that my biggest fans will always help me crest that last big hill. 

And afterwards, we can all celebrate with a buttery, lightly salted snack. 

If Other Runners Jumped off a Bridge...?

"Mind your own beeswax." 

My kindergartner's taken to saying this, but at first didn't really know what it meant. So I explained: pay attention to your own behavior, and don't worry about what others are doing. Sounds easy, unless you're a 6-year-old. 

Or at the gym. 

The first time I ran at the local Y, I spent a lot of time looking at the other runners. They all looked like they knew what they were doing. The pounded out 9- to 10-minute miles like it was nothing, read a magazine propped on the treadmill, and followed the sports scores crawling across the TV screens. 

Meanwhile, I could barely keep my earbuds in place as I plodded along. My treadmill's too slow, my sweat towel's in the wrong place. Does everyone in the room realize I don't really know what I'm doing? 

No. Because "everyone" doesn't care. They're all doing what I really should be doing. 

Minding my own beeswax.

Tick, tick tick...

My entire adult life has been ruled by clocks. 

Alarm clocks getting me up for school and work, microwave clocks marking the time until dinner's ready, newsroom clocks ticking off the minutes until deadline. 

And now, with running, the obsession continues. 

I need to keep track of distances on some days, but mostly I need to keep track of how much time I spend running (today it had to be 30-35 minutes). So I'm constantly monitoring my watch, and it's confirmed something I learned years ago. 

Time is just a great big mind game. 

Thirty-five minutes of running feels like 90 on some days and 25 on others. Same thing for trying to get things done before children come home from school (how does four hours dissolve into 20 minutes?), and getting things done at work (when four hours became 30 seconds in an eye-blink). 

The clock and I weren't always good friends at work, but we reached an understanding -- as long as I was going forward, time stayed with me. And after a while, I stopped obsessing about it. I knew I was making progress, and that gradually diminished my clock-watching. 

I'm slowly learning that it's the same thing whether you're trying to finish a project at work, potty train a toddler or finally make it to the top of the hill you're running on. Stop looking at the minute hand sweeping around, or the digital seconds ticking away.

Just keep moving forward.

Different Spring Break, Same Result

Even when you're of a certain age, spring break is still a lot of fun. 

And, unfortunately, it still costs.

I made a conscious decision not to bring my running shoes on my family's spring break trip. We'd be gone just Monday and Tuesday nights, I reasoned, and there wouldn't be much downtime for me to go running anyway. But I laid out some work

out clothes at home so that I'd have no excuses once we'd returned on Wednesday -- I could just jump in my clothes and go. 

And I did. Left the family for an hour, went outside and ran. Slothness during spring break? Ha! 

I didn't work out at all Thursday, unless by "work out" I mean "watching 'Monsters vs. Aliens' and eating a burger, fries and popcorn with my almost 6-year-old." Didn't work out Friday, unless you want to count bowling two games (with the aforementioned almost 6-year-old), then going out for Mexican. 

Today came and I thought: no problem! I can run four miles. Let's go! Not so much. 

I did three, and walked the last half-mile or so. Surely I'm not that out of shape after only two days off. What's that? It was actually four days off? 

Hmm. 

So spring break's a blast, but after four days of intense fun your body makes you pay for it. 

Some things never change.

Sneakers are cheaper than Prozac

I didn't run (or exercise at all, for that matter) for two consecutive days. On the second non-exercise day, I'm proud to say I:

• lost my temper with my older son because he just WOULD NOT GET READY; 
  
• grabbed and got in the face of (and in the process, terrified) my younger one when he kicked me repeatedly instead of lying down for bed;
  
• generally spent the rest of the night in a crappy mood. 
  

Does running keep me a happy mommy? Hard to say, since I don't actually enjoy it while I'm doing it. Does it release some of the stress from recent changes in my life? Probably. 

Today I do my first four-mile run. No doubt I'll return home panting, sweating and once again cursing the hills that surround my neighborhood.

But I'll also return ready to face a day full of toddler hat parades, kindergarten egg hunts and possibly a loud visit to a local pizza place for dinner. 

Bring it on. 

That Skinny B-tch is NOT my BFF!

Today's a cross-training day, which means I need to think of something interesting to do. Actually, it means I'll try something new and then talk about it for the next hour.

I've been trying to use videos to mix things up on my non-running days so I don't get too bored. Some of it's been OK, some awful, and some totally cheesy.

One that caught my eye was a  "Skinny Bitch" workout. Hmm. Edgy title, could be fun. 

Uh, no. It was like being led by Paris Hilton and her spunky BFF. The worst part is that they don't tell always tell you the correct way to do the exercise, meaning that at best it'll be ineffective and at worst you'll hurt yourself.

My favorite part was actually during the cooldown, when Spunky says she sometimes forgets to breathe during workouts ("I'm such a bad breather!" she gasps). We should all be so lucky. 

There's also "Cardioke." It's a workout that combines cardio and karaoke (you're supposed to be able to hold a conversation while you're doing a cardio workout, so why not sing?). It's done by the son of the Tae Bo guy (remember him?), and it's actually fun in a hip-hop-moves-for-the-masses kind of way. But asking me to learn a new dance pattern and follow the flashing lyrics to "Let's Get it Started" and "Don't Cha" is a bit much at the end of the day. (Not to mention that it's not even the original version of these songs. Have you ever heard a remake of Pussycat Dolls? It's not pretty!) You can check it out for yourself here.

And during the Cardioke video the camera panned around and -- wait -- was that the janitor from "Good Times?" working out? Has life been that rough since leaving the projects?

Afraid to stop

There's a lot to be afraid of in my house. There's the imaginary tiger that lives in our office (we keep the door closed so the tiger won't get out), and plenty of critters in the "Okey-Okey Swamp," as my 2-year-old calls our green-carpeted family room. 

My big fear? It's the treadmill in the garage. 

I've skipped two training days recently because I just didn't feel like running. But I always went back the next day out of fear that I wouldn't restart. 

That fear, though, has made me work out on days that I probably shouldn't have. I'd be so wrapped up in the training schedule that I wouldn't pay attention to the little clues my body was giving me. 

One day I finally listened and added an extra day off in the training schedule. And, you know, it's been working out great. My legs generally aren't as tired, and my knee isn't bothering me as much as it had been. 

As for the fear? I still occasionally worry that if I stop for too long I won't restart. But I'm not afraid of ignoring the treadmill for a couple of days. In fact, I actually feel like I'm going faster the day after I've skipped a workout. 

But that added speed also could be because of the tiger. Someone must have left the office door open again.