As you may have guessed by my open letter, my 11 miler
yesterday did not go as well as I had hoped. It started on Wednesday. I made a
conscious effort all day to hydrate and eat plenty of carbs. Eating dinner I
announced to the boys that I was going to crush my 11 miles the next day. I
felt strong and I was confident I could. Then it happened. While I was doing
the dinner dishes, N kicked L in the face and broke his glasses. It all went
downhill. I knew immediately that I couldn’t fix the glasses and would have to
drive L down to the ophthalmologist the next day to get said glasses fixed. I
saw my run getting flushed down the toilet and it really pissed me off. Not
only did N break the glasses, he showed no remorse AND he screwed over my long
run, again. I was angry and guilty for feeling this way about my baby.
I thought to hell with it. I poured myself 2.5 ounces of
bourbon, put the boys to bed, ate two frozen cookie dough balls and tried to
sleep. The problem was, I couldn’t after the alcohol and sugar. I tossed and
turned all night long. The next morning I put N on the bus and then L and I
hopped in the car during rush hour traffic to head downtown to get the glasses
fixed. I was impressed with how quickly we got there, how quickly she fixed
them and how quickly we got home. I was able to drop L off at school in time
for his at school field trip and all was good in his life.
I then decided it was now or never for my run. I ate a Cliff
bar, changed into my skirt, put on my sunglasses, grabbed my water and left. I
knew it would be a tough run due to the late start, the heat and my lack of
sleep. My first mile was awesome. Then I slowed down. The heat and humidity got
the worst of me. I tried to ration my water, but it was hard. At 9.5 miles I
thought of stopping but decided I couldn’t. My A-plan goal of finishing the
whole run in 2 hours or less was out the window. My new goal was to finish 10
miles in 2 hours. I quickly stopped back at my house to get some more water and
a cold towel to wrap around my neck to cool my temperature down with. I hit my
goal of 2 hours for 10 miles. I was disappointed that I couldn’t do all 11
miles. I finished said 11 miles in 2:13:35. My worst time for that distance
yet. I was so discouraged and exhausted. I know that I had set myself up for
failure the night before when I said to hell with it. The whole run was a huge
mental battle that I feel that I both won at lost at the same time. I won
because I didn’t quit, but I failed by giving up so early.
As a mother runner, my first duty and priority is my family.
My second is running. That’s why I am a mother runner and not a runner mother.
I struggle with balancing my mom life and my running life. This is one example
of how a bad day in my mom life can spew over into my running life. But isn’t
that exactly how life is; a perfect (or imperfect) balance of all of our roles?
I love running because it challenges me. I push myself more than I would in my
daily life. I get angry when one part spews over into the other part,
especially if that spewing messes up the balance.
Today I talked J into taking a slow 2-mile walk just to
loosen up my legs. We headed out the same time as yesterday when I was heading
back to the house for water. As I walked with J, I complained about the heat.
He commented that it was more the humidity than the heat. I then told him how
proud I was of myself for running those 11 miles in this heat (and humidity).
If I was miserable walking today, I am definitely GBA for running in it
yesterday! That’s why I run. I may want to curl up in a ball and die while
doing it, but as I reflect on my accomplishments later I realize how awesome I
really am; regardless of whether I am on my A game in life and running or not.
It’s a great day for running y’all!
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