Running in the Chaos

I am not new to running. I began my running journey as a toddler after I hacked the hair off my sisters Barbie and she chased me up and down the hill in her Cozy Coupe. I also have proudly trampled several boys in the playground at Helen Thompson school on field day. My real running journey began however, after I had both my kids, and that is when running became an outlet and not a punishment. That is not to say it is always a reprieve because sometimes it isn’t. I found that after I had my daughter, my body mostly bounced back and I still ate Cheeze it’s and drank Diet Coke at midnight and looked hella good. After I had my son however, and I remember this distinctly. I went into the central business office and I had him in an infant carrier. If you go in the business office there is a tall desk that doesn’t allow staff to see the lower extremities of your body. So I hoofed it up those stairs with Payson weighing me down, and me angling him and my iced coffee just so and I asked if they had the paperwork for me to fill out. Whoever it was at the time and I honestly don’t remember, whoever it was said “oh my god, you look exhausted. When are you going to have that baby?” Readers, I have never been more mortified in my life. Thats probably not true. I’m sure there are other times, but I was leveled right to the ground. I hate to hurt peoples feelings. It really bothers me to the core, so I smiled meekly and said he’s right here , and held up his carrier like he was Simba from the Lion King. I then scribbled my signature on whatever I needed too and sobbed all the way to the car. Now I’m not telling you this story to make you hate the person in the business office, I’m sure she felt terrible after I left. I’m also not writing about it because I think people should return to their pre-pregnancy weight six weeks post partum. I’m writing this because this conversation is what exactly kick started my running hobby. The next day, I laced up sneakers that were two years old, I asked my husband to watch the kids because I only had an hour and a half between that exact moment and pumping time and I set out for the rail trail. If you have ever run while breast feeding, holy mother of Jesus Mary. It is a sight to behold. But I was determined. I didn’t want people asking when I was having this baby again, am I right? I had already laid on that c section table and I wanted credit for it. So I started running and low and behold my bladder rejected me, I made it maybe a quarter of a mile down the rail trail and had to pee so badly I was afraid I would become a human sprinkler. I half walked, half ran, the whole way back to my car and then unable to hold it any longer, I peed my pants right there in my Kia Sorento. Oh the horror! I don’t think I’ve ever told that story . But since I won’t see most of you for 2 and a half years according to recent articles, I think I am out of the woods. So you’re probably feeling bad for me aren’t you? First I’m called a Fatty McPatty and the next second I’m peeing myself in my car. Well don’t feel too bad, because I don’t give up easy and I kept up the journey of increasing my walking/running little by little. My mom and my best friend joined me on several runs until I was comfy enough to run my first 5K (which I hated) and onto three different half marathons. I do have to say I don’t love running races, I love running and I would say I get a runners high from it, but the stress of people throwing gatorade cups at volunteers and vomiting all over their sneakers at the end of the race to beat a time, just doesn’t really do it for me. What I do love , is the exhilaration I get when I start out and my muscles feel like the Tin Man’s and my breathing sounds like little Forest Gump when he is sitting out on that tire swing , and then after I hit a half a mile, all of a sudden my body figures it out and not everything hurts and when I breathe in and out I feel more powerful with every step. I always feel like after I finished a run, that I just did something that was hard in the beginning and easy in the end and faced it head on. After that, any challenge in the day is cake.

Fast Forward to a few weeks ago, when school went on hiatus and my anxiety went full tilt. I stopped running almost completely and only exercised from the couch to the Nutella container in the pantry. It is funny how fast your brain can forget what is helpful when it is in crisis mode, but that is exactly what it did. I also was worried about running with running partners, because I didn’t want to get them sick or vice versa and Dr. Shah didn’t recommend and I am doing everything in his tell all book. So this led to me reaching out to my husband and downloading the Map My Run app. I am not being paid to praise this app, in fact there may be better apps out there for all I know. What I do like about Map My Run, is it shouts at you when you reach those mile markers and this is SOOO motivating for me. It also will shout how long it took you to reach that mile. I like this a little bit less. It doesn’t feel great to hear that voice say 13 minutes and 22 seconds, but hey, you can just turn Eminem up louder when this happens right? It also tracks your weekly progress and you can friend someone on there. Right now, I only have my best girl and my husband as friends, but she sends me encouraging messages every time she gets notified that I have done a run and this make me want to do more the next day. This app is completely free unless you want to upgrade, but I never mess with that because I am and will always be a little bit of West Gardiner Trash, rolling along in my four wheeler, yelling “is that free?” So I just don’t have time to mess with the glitz and the glitter. I think I posted a picture of the app to this blog and if you click on it, you will see I ran 17 miles this week. I know lot’s of runners who do 30 plus miles a week, but hey 17 is not bad for someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown. My featured image attached to this post is my husband. I don’t know if you can see him in the picture because he was outrunning me at such a frantic pace this morning that I barely could snap a shot, but nonetheless there he is, in all his super human glory. I begged him to run with me this am, not because I thought it would make me faster , but just because I wanted to hold myself accountable. I am feeling down, depressed and flabby, a lot like I felt when that person asked me when I would have that baby, when all I had was a cheeseburger in my stomach. I set a goal and I wanted him to help me jump start it. We started in the driveway where I told him I wanted to run down High Street and up Winter Hill and he said do you want me to wait for you? I told him it was best if we went our own ways because I would need to stop at Cumby’s for some scratch off’s and a cigarette. He laughed and took off and that vision in the picture is the last I saw. I will tell you reader, this morning was rouggggh. I was breathing hard, I felt like I was running with twenty extra pounds and by the time I got to Winter Hill I felt like I was walking up the hill even though my lungs were screaming at me to stop running. The nice part about running outside and not on a treadmill is you get to see the view and be one with nature. The view on Winter Hill can tend to be a little anti climatic however. This morning it was, discarded condoms, Twisted Tea Containers and Dunkin Donut straws, but no matter, I was out in the world people! By the time I got back, I was so proud of that four plus miles I had to write about it. I hope it inspires you to walk, jog, run, scream, laugh, cry through whatever ails you this week. Download that app, friend me on it and I will encourage you on any workout you do, whether it be one mile, three trampoline bounces or a game of flip cup. Set a goal, do what you can control to meet it , because there is so much you can’t control right now.