Why I run

I don’t run because I’m fast. I don’t run because I hope to win races. In fact, my kids are often the first to console me when because I don’t win first place:)  Running has served many purposes in my life. I did track in high school, but for purely social reasons. My friends were there, so that’s where I wanted to be also. There was one running event I was decent at, but I still begged my coaches (with no luck) to let me stick with doing just long jump, high jump, and triple jump. When I went to college I started running more than I did in high school because I had heard so many horror stories of the “Freshman Fifteen”, and it scared me. When I got married I was very hit and miss for the first couple of years due to working full-time and going to school full-time. It didn’t fit into my schedule very well, and I was surprised to find out that I missed it. After my first daughter was born I was determined to start running again. As I had more children it became my “me time” that everyone told me was so important. That “me time” quickly became my social time also, as I made friends with other girls who enjoyed running. Over the last several years I have learned many things through running. I have used it as a stress release. I have strengthened my testimony of the amazing gift from God that our physical bodies are, and it has strengthened my resolve to take care of my body. I have made friends. I have laughed, cried, and strengthened friendships. I have accomplished goals. I have learned that I can do hard things. I have had time to think. I have offered some of my most heartfelt prayers in the early morning hours when I am by myself on the road.

 A year and a half ago I crossed one big thing off my bucket list when I ran the St. George Marathon. I had every intention of it being my one and only, but was surprised in the weeks following when I started feeling the itch to do it again someday. Then I found out I was pregnant, gave birth, and have been balancing a busy life that includes caring for a baby and adjusting to being a mom of 4 ever since. Yesterday I ran my first post-baby race. A couple weeks after Camden was born I was walking a 5K where I met another mom in our stake who had also just given birth. She is an amazing runner, and I was telling her that I was looking forward to starting again as soon as I could. She was so nice and invited me to a girls’ weekend that she organized with a bunch of women every year. They went to Wenatchee for a weekend every April, ran the race, and just had fun together. It sounded like a good goal, so I told her to put me on her list.

 Being a mom to 4 sweet kids has been completely different than I expected. I never could have imagined the way my heart would burst with love for my 4 little ones. It is more wonderful than anyone could have ever described. It has also been so much harder than I ever imagined. When I was pregnant with Sadie (#3), everyone prepared me for how hard 3 was. Kids outnumbered the parents, yada, yada, yada…. I was pleasantly surprised when 3 was realitively smooth sailing for us. When I was pregnant with Camden, everyone told me that “if you can do three, you’ve got this”, “after 3 it’s all the same”, and “you hardly even notice a change because you’ve already adjusted to life with more kids than parents.” That has not been my experience. I love my little Camden more than words can express, but I’ve come to the conclusion that this mom gig is just plain hard work. He brought his own set of challenges to our family, and although I feel really good about where we’re at right now, I’m exhausted!

 On New Years Eve, after 4 months of figuring out my new life, I remembered the conversation about the Wenatchee Half-Marathon. I had been running sporadically, but I felt like I needed a goal to work towards: something to get me out the door even if I was tired and a feeling of accomplishment to look forward to. I felt like after pouring so much time and attention and love and energy into motherhood I wanted to reclaim another part of my life. I needed a distraction for when it got hard and I felt like I was ready to commit to training consistently for something. I registered for the race, and got excited when a couple other friends decided to go too. I realized quickly that I may have jumped the gun. Some women are great at jumping right in where they left off, and I’m not one of them. Camden was not a great sleeper for a while, and I would wake up exhausted. Some mornings I would force myself out of bed, get dressed in all my warm clothes to go out running in the rain, only to get to the front door and hear Camden wake up ready to nurse. I was physically exhausted and emotionally spent. He wouldn’t take a bottle, he had some food sensitivities that made me alter my diet pretty dramatically, along with some other minor issues that came up that required more of my time and attention. I was a little stressed out trying to figure out how to make this “girls weekend” work.  Luckily, my husband is such a good sport, and he agreed to brave a hotel full of women and make a family weekend out of it. The kids got super excited.
 

Fortunately, my friends made sure that I got my Saturday long runs in, but the weekday thing was just not working out as well as I liked, and I showed up to the race feeling nervous, excited, but completely unprepared. I went in with pretty low expectations knowing that this race would just be a good place to start and it could only get better:)

 Our race tradition includes me going to bed early the night before and Dan staying up to make my playlist for me. He always puts a few funny surprises on there, and it’s always a welcome distraction. Early on in the race I realized this one would be different. I couldn’t get my music to play at first, so I just decided to not use it for a while. My close friends were running the full marathon, so I wasn’t running with them. Because all of my long runs had been on weekends with the girls, it had been awhile since I had run alone. Combine that with my music not working, and I had a lot of time to think. It was actually nice to have some time alone with my thoughts, reflect on the “why I love running” more than trying to achieve a certain time, and think about my blessings, including good health and legs that work. I think all of the thinking turned it into a more emotional run than I was expecting. The first thing that I noticed was a man who was sitting along the course cheering. He didn’t look much older than me, he was wearing a running T-shirt, and he was sitting in a wheelchair. He was all alone. He wasn’t just half-heartedly clapping, he was enthusiastically cheering for each one of us as we ran by. It made me cry. I don’t know what his story was, but I was so impressed by his attitude. Of course, the aftermath of Boston was still heavy in the air, and it made me think of those people as well. The next thing I noticed was the solidarity of runners in general, but also the sisterhood that I find in friends. Because I kind of crashed another ward’s tradition, I didn’t know many (if any:) of the girls I was there with well. Many of them were ahead of me, which meant that on the out-and-back course they would pass me going the opposite direction. Every one of them gave me a smile or an encouraging word and I was so grateful for the kind gestures. Lastly, I was able to think a lot about my role as a mom. I felt like this race was so intertwined with motherhood for me. It was symbolic. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do this again, and that I’m back “in it” after having my 4th baby. I wanted to be a runner again. I felt like I needed this back in my life. When that goal became complicated by the demands of motherhood I started to wonder if I could do this again. I thought maybe this wasn't the most important thing right now. The night before I felt so unprepared I really didn’t know what the outcome would be. Then, as I was running, I started thinking about each of my kids. I thought about the few times I’ve been able to take Jacey out running and how much I’ve enjoyed it. I thought about the pride I saw on her face when she ran her first 5K. I thought about Broden and the hugs he gives me when I get home from early Saturday morning runs even when I’m sweaty and smelly and asks me how far I ran. I feel like motherhood and running really have gone hand in hand for me. I realized that when I take care of me I am a better mom, and running is how I do that. I hope that my kids know that. I hope I’m teaching them that they can do hard things. I hope I’m teaching them that they don’t have to be the “best” at something to feel successful, and that they should take great pride in doing their best, whatever that may be. With all of these thoughts swimming around in my head, I was reminded how truly blessed I am to be a wife and a mom and have good health and energy to enjoy this time in my life. At that moment I turned the corner to see the finish line straight ahead of me. With a feeling of accomplishment I approached the finish line, and just before crossing I heard little voices. I looked to the right, saw my little cheering section, and cried all the way across the finish line. Not because I was relieved it was over. (Well, maybe a little:) Mostly tears of gratitude in realizing that I can do this again, but the greatest role in my life right now is to be a wife and a mom. I’m pretty lucky, and I have a pretty incredible family to share that journey with.