Now before I start this, let me just tell you, I’ve been running for 3 months. I am similar to that lady who ranted on Facebook about how parenting isn’t an excuse to not shower and have crumbs under the couch– and she has exactly one 2-week-old infant. We’ve all been collectively giggling while we sip our wine, and fist bumping thinking of toddlers running through Cheerrios on her freshly vacuumed carpet. I was thinking of emailing her to see if she could come shave my legs for me.
Anyway, I’m about as much of an expert as that lady. Tomorrow I might tell you that “running” was of yesteryear; I’ve found a new passion in making candles or picking cherries- except picking fruit makes me wish I was cleaning a toilet – because that would definitely be more exciting.
Mostly, I don’t want anyone writing me while I’m eating chocolate cake and binge watching Netflix…”I thought you used to run??” No one needs that kind of negativity in their life.
So, as long as we’re clear, this is my story:
Maybe my shoes looked lonely that day, or maybe the heavens opened and the angels started singing the sound track of Chariots of Fire. I have no idea. Somehow I got it in my head that going on a run was a good idea, and it stuck.
At first my running consisted of only walking, which was really nice because I could still drink a latte while doing it. Seriously though, I paid no attention to how much I stopped, and walked, or maybe laid down in the middle of the road for a minute (only once or ten times did I do that). I made goals and I finished them whether I was jogging or crawling. No shame. Over time, I was able to run further and further, and I wondered less if I should call Graham and give him my location (in case I passed out and never came home).
I celebrated my first half mile like I was Ryan Held on the podium for the first time (was that not the most precious thing you have EVER seen??). For reals I did.
Pro Tip: When running it is completely legit to speed up when you pass by someone and then immediately stop when they can no longer judge you. Please tell me I am not alone.
I try and sneak out before the kids are awake, but sometimes there is one little person hanging on to me asking, “Mom, why do you hafffa go wunnning?? Stay here wif me!”
Her cheeks are so fluffy and cute, I might die.
There are always 1001 reasons NOT to go running. For instance: sleeping. Sleeping almost always sounds like a better idea than running. So does eating a brownie.
The facts are though, sometimes it really helps to pound out some stress. If you’re like me, you need to remember those stressful things to get you out the door. So, I have put together this handy little list of mini-motivations:
REASONS WHY I RUN:
Because my children are louder than any other human beings on the planet. I have high hopes if yelling ever becomes an Olympic sport.
Because no one can ever, in this ever-loving house, find their shoes.
Because I love beer and ice-cream.
Because, blue petrified toothpaste on the counter, every single moment of my life.
Because this happens in my bathroom while I’m packing for a trip…
Because Malachi and Scout argued about dolphins yesterday for 45 minutes.
Because cool running clothes make me feel powerful and awesome. Running clothes don’t pinch me or confine me…they say: GIRL, you got this.
Because of the crumbs that stick to the floor when I sweep.
Because I pretend to not mind Daniel Tiger, but really, when I listen to him sing his annoying little songs – I want to stab my ear drum with a fork.
Because conversations with children make zero sense. Ever. Yesterday I lost an argument with my three-year-old and ended up cutting up tiny pieces of bacon for a stuffed cat.
Because asphalt doesn’t argue. Asphalt doesn’t give a damn about what I made for dinner or if we’re having dessert. It says get it girl, you’re the shiz.
For reals though, since I’ve started running I’ve noticed my anxiety levels are better. Not perfect, but better. I feel better physically. I have the appetite of a high schooler, and feel very justified categorizing things like ice cream and chocolate as caloric “needs”. I always ate ice cream, but now I feel it’s okay to finish it off without offering any to Graham, because you know, blood sugar.
I started out dragging myself a mile or two, and now I’m tentatively planning a half marathon with my sister-in-law. Because I’m literally insane, but friends…
If I can do it ANYONE can do it.