Once a upon a time, in a land far far away, I set a goal for my running. That goal was 2:15. I thought, if I could run that, I’d never complain about running. I’d be happy with that time for ever. After 3 years time, I’ve realized that’s not true for runners. We strive for greatness from ourselves. In November, when I had a 12 minute PR on a half marathon with a time of 2:20, while I was proud of the PR and how far I had come, I was ticked I didn’t break 2:20. I was on the cusp of that 2:15 time goal, that was my elusive white rabbit. I swore then, that I would break 2:15, come hell or high water, but I also realized, that while breaking 2:15 was all well and dandy, it wasn’t good enough anymore. I wanted a 2:10 now.
So, I set my mind to it, and got my training all laid out. I started running outside instead of the treadmill. I forced myself to run on the hillier side of town to prepare for Mercedes. And in the beginning, I felt like I was getting slower. That I was just beating up my body. One evening, I was running with my little group after a couple of weeks of solo runs, and I found myself able to keep up with Shannon, who typically runs off and leaves me. I found myself not slowing down with Donnie, but pushing myself. I found my breathing to come easier and my legs able to take the hills.
I may still hate that hilly Oktoberfest course, but I’ve forced myself to run it. One night last week, I ran it in 27 minutes. 2 minutes faster than I have ever raced a 5K. Those hills don’t hurt like that used to. Don’t get my wrong, they don’t feel good. But I’ve somehow, flipped the switch over to ”just keep going”. It may hurt, but just keep going. My training runs are right on par with a 2:10 half for Sunday. But I know and am trying to prepare myself mentally that I still may not do it. But I could also smoke it out of the water.
It’s been so long since I trained so hard for something, and I really want that number on the clock to reflect the blood, sweat, and tears poured into this training. I know that I am not defined by the number on the clock, but I really want it to read 2:10.
I feel sorry for my coworker… she is getting the majority of my race week neuroses. My piriformis muscle is flaring up and I’ve got a soreness in the arch of my foot. So, naturally, I think I’ve torn a ligament or pulled a muscle. I’m planning on running tonight.. nice and easy. Swimming tomorrow and be done until Sunday. I’m also going to be doing some of the stretching videos this week from FitnessGlo.
I guess now it’s time to just trust the training…
You never know when it will hit.
Where you might be.
But it’s always unexpected.
You see, as moms, we worry.
Are we doing the best thing for our children? Are we teaching them the right way? Are we too hard on our kids? Should we discipline them more?
It’s a constant worry. Add working full time to that mix, and you’ve got a whole nother load of Mommy Guilt coming your way.
Who’s picking them up? Am I missing something major? Am I doing enough with them? Am I doing enough for my own sanity?
With all that worry about raising my girls to be the best they can, I tend to be a little on the vulnerable side.
I try to set aside some time for me and some time for my husband, and then rest is for the girls.
And when I am judged by what I do, it HURTS.
Add in being judged by a loved one, well… that just stepped it up a notch.
To have that person criticize the way you have chosen to bring up your kids, will cut you to the core in a way that no woman should ever know.
As if we aren’t hard enough on ourselves, we have to worry about the judgement from others.
Shouldn’t we be free from the judgement of our family and close friends?!
Is it a crime for me to want to set a good example for my children to live a healthy lifestyle by working out and eating right? What about setting goals and reaching them? Or them watching you cross the finish line of a race that you have spent the past 3 months training for? I want my girls to know that you can do anything that you set your mind to and what better way than to show them?
Can we stop the judgement? Can we put away the need to put others down for not doing things the way we would do them?
It’s time, ladies.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the past decade. 10 years ago, I was a 15 year old girl. I had no idea who I was. I had no idea if I even wanted children or not and I definitely had no idea who I wanted to be when I grow up. When I started college, I still had no idea who I wanted to be and would often ask my mom,” Can’t you just TELL me what I am supposed to do with my life?!!?” I met John and the crazy thing is, he knows exactly what I need. He had no idea what I should be when I grow up or what kind of person I should/would be, but he has always known what is best for me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the person I was then and person I am turning into be. I like the new me a LOT better. She isn’t as loud(although, still sort of loud and highly opinionated), is a fierce friend, has found the passion for photography that grows everyday, loves her children more than anything, has a husband who is her rock, has a newfound relationship with her dad that she treasures, her sister is one of her best friends, has married into one of the most fabulous families ever, she isn’t near as crazy as 15 year old me, is re-discovering her love for fashion, and is developing a love for running( who would’ve thought!).
I’m not sure 15 year old me would recognize me now, but who cares? She was slightly crazy anyway.
2009 was a year of discovery for me. Discovering how crazy life is with two small children. How sleep deprived one can actually be. How it’s okay to need an anti-depressant everyday to not be a crazy person. How awesome I feel behind a camera. How right it feels for it to just be me, my iPod and a pair of running shoes.
I’ll miss you 2009, but I have GREAT things planned for 2010.