As November turned up on the calendar, approaching an
anniversary that leaves my heart aching, and still adjusting to the family-of
five status, I find myself craving “normalcy.” I have a few ideas about what that looks like.
I know it is different for everyone. For me it means exercise, routine and deep
breaths. I know it isn’t impossible to have it all again after a new baby
disrupts it, I have done it twice before. There isn’t a formula. From what I
remember you just must remain steadfast to the things that matter and they will
find a place back in.
So, this morning, breakfast was complete, the baby asleep
(!) and my window of opportunity was open. I shook off the budding-runners clinging to my legs begging to come along, and began to shout out cliff notes instructions to my husband about the baby's schedule, but instead just said "oh you know what to do," with my hand firmly on the door knob. I headed out for my first outside run in about two weeks. I ventured out for some run/walks before my 6
week check-up but my fear of the pelvic organ police coming by with a citation
kept me from truly enjoying the activity. The other runs have been on a
treadmill in the garage that only depress me. Running for me is meant to be
outside. There is meant to be scenery besides the grill of your over-sized SUV
that being the mother of three who refuses to succumb to the mini-van but still
wants to be able to transport a double running stroller with you mandates.
The outside run this morning was amazing. My Garmin was
completely dead and didn’t wake up until almost a mile into the run. But I didn’t
really need it. My pace didn't matter, one foot in front of the other. And I know the miles by heart around here now. Half a mile up the
big hill outside of the neighborhood. Three quarters of a mile by the horse
pasture, where there are no longer horses. A mile and half at the turn around
point before you cross over onto the bumpy road as my toddlers affectionately
coined it. I made all three. And then an extra loop around the neighborhood. I
didn’t stop for a walk break. I enjoyed the scenery. I even enjoyed the rain
drops.
Yesterday, my Facebook feed was filled with people completing
races - half marathons, 5Ks, 5-milers. I felt the challenge to return to this.
When my oldest was 12 weeks old I ran the Kiawah Half Marathon (a mile for each
week of her life, and one for me). My youngest will be 12 weeks this Wednesday.
I will not be running a half marathon on Wednesday. If I run another 3 miles this week, I will
take that success.
Pregnant-me envisioned myself tucking in my oldest two,
peeking in on the sleeping baby, and then heading out to the treadmill &
clocking a few miles - rebuilding my running quickly. This has not happened. Instead
most nights, I sink into the couch with whatever dairy-free food items I can forage and catch up on the
Real Housewives of Orange County, until I catch myself dozing and head to bed in preparation for my night shift duties. This has done little for my calves or my
post-partum (x3) pooch. I was briefly
inspired by Heather Dubrow’s diet plan. My inspiration lasted a few hours one
morning, after which I remembered she also used leeches and I had to draw the
line somewhere.
My return to running will come. It is coming. I am holding
steadfast to it. I counted the weeks available for training until the 2015
Kiawah Half Marathon…
