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. 

A hole in my tooth and my heart

Anytime a hole in your tooth is the least painful part of your day, it's a day that pretty much sucks.

I started Tuesday morning with Aleve. Good for the tooth. But it couldn't prevent the heartache that was about to come.  

That evening, during the whirl of pajamas and snack time, one of the higher-ups from my employer called. 

Reading from a script he was required to follow, he told me that I was getting laid off (actually, "involuntarily separated"). He went through some of the particulars -- a meeting I'd need to attend, paperwork I'd have to fill out. 

About 10 minutes later, nearly two decades in journalism, my chosen profession, were over. 

I vented, cried and mourned appropriately. But here's the funny thing: I also ran that night. For 30 minutes. And it helped a little, if only because I did something productive that night. 

Of course, it didn't help my tooth. That came the next day when I got a new filling. 

Life goes on ... and I'll keep running. 

Going the Extra Mile (plus .1)

I’ve done lots of 5Ks, all of them as a walker and the vast majority of them pre-children. But I was nervous about today's race, the Tour DeCatur, since I was actually going to run this one. 

In theory I’m ready, since at this point in my training I’m supposed to be able to run 3 miles. A 5K is 3.1 miles, and really, how much harder will that .1 be?

The hardest part was sticking to my running schedule during the race (run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds), because I felt like everyone was flying by me. I could never see the police car that was at the very back of the race pack, though, so that was a good thing.

I hit the one-mile mark a little sooner than I thought I would, and about a minute later I saw my small but strong-voiced cheering section (see the video below). My five-year-old saw the pace I was running at and simply said: "Mommy, speed up!" 

Wish I had seen them during the last mile, when my legs – conditioned to a 2-mile long run – wondered why I was still moving. I was definitely slower, but as I said to a fellow runner/walker as we headed up a hill, at least I’m still moving.

All in all the race went better than I thought it would (I finished in 38:20, way faster than I’ve ever walked a 5K). Maybe it’s from all those days of going up and down the hills in my neighborhood. Or maybe I’m slightly more fit than I thought, despite my sore left knee.

As I walked back to the car after the race, I thought about how at this point I’d be only half done with the Peachtree. Wondering how, and whether, I’ll get there is for another day. For now it’s about remembering my boys’ screams of encouragement as they watched Mommy in a race, and celebrating the fact that I actually ran a 5K.

And eating the Oreo cookies offered to runners as part of a post-race snack.

It's 48 degrees and raining (with Video!)

Not long after I declared that I was absolutely going to stick with my training, my husband came up with the real test of my commitment. 

“Just wait until it’s cold and rainy one morning, and you’re all wrapped up in the covers,” he said. “Then you’ll know if you’re really into it.” 

I had started to scoff, but really, he’s right. There’s very little that can get me out of a warm, cozy bed on a cold, rainy weekend: My children. The smell of cooking bacon. That’s about it. 

But here it is, a rainy Sunday, and over breakfast my husband asked if it was a running day or a cross-training day. His sly look told me he already knew it was a running day. 

I thought pretty hard about hitting treadmill, but I told him I was definitely going outside. 

It was wet, it was a little cool (48 degrees, but felt colder). And I spent the first few minutes wondering why I was stupid enough to go outside. 

 But I did it. By the end of the run I actually had Barry Manilow in my head. 

“I made it through the rain, I kept my world protected...”

Yeah, the song’s got nothing to do with running, but sometimes you just have to take whatever can get you through the day.

A Mommy Runs...

I miss the packed MARTA trains at dawn and the water sprays along the route.  I even miss Cardiac Hill.   

So this year, I’m coming back. 

It’s the 40th running of the Peachtree Road Race, and I’m going to be there. 

But this time, I'm running it!   

The 2002 Peachtree was my first and only 10K, and for the most part, I walked it. . I’ve been wanting to do it again, but life would always get in the way.

2003? Had Baby No. 1 two and a half months before. Not happening. 2004? Adjusting to life with a one-year-old, and unwilling to give up the little sleep I get. 2005? Did some 5Ks and intended to apply, but didn’t think I’d be ready.

2006? Had Baby No. 2 on July 3. The Ob/Gyn originally scheduled to perform my C-section swapped shifts with a colleague. He was running the Peachtree and didn’t want to risk getting stuck at the hospital the night before the race.

2007? See 2004, but with two children and even less sleep. 2008? Spent the Fourth of July househunting, since the home we were selling went under contract faster than we thought it would. 

But this is the year for me. I’ve got a training schedule, some new sneakers (hi-jacked by my two-year-old as seen above) and I’m totally ready. I still don’t have a lot of free time, or get a lot of sleep, but I’m done with the excuses. 

Are you done with the excuses, too? Join me! I’ll be blogging about getting ready for the race, from finding the time to finding your way on a long run. 

Hope to run into you along the way. But if not I’ll see you on the Fourth!