The last week or so has been the usual challenge. Jasper changed his wake up time to 5am, so all my runs are stroller runs.
I spent Saturday following the Leadville 100 online, and marveled that so many of the top women finishers were moms. I’d like to think I am a kindred spirit with the ultra running moms who I assume are also up early getting their miles in, but in reality it’s just not so. I am up early, plodding slowly with a stroller, nervously glancing at my watch wondering if I can cram in a couple more miles before I need to get ready for work, 20 minutes is long enough for Jasper and I to both eat and get ready, right? I finish my run slower and with less miles than I would like. Meanwhile the ultra mom has managed a 15 miler, and that’s probably an easy day. I also vow to pop in a yoga DVD once Jasp goes to bed, but by the time 9pm rolls around, I end up cleaning up the kitchen and watching 30 minutes of “Breaking Bad” instead. Total loser.
I plod along with my stroller wondering why I can’t seem to get it together; after all my I only have one kid, he’s far out of baby stage, and I only work part time. While I manage to do the basics of life pretty well, I just don’t seem to get in the runs I would like to be doing. Once again…thoughts of the super ultra moms creep into my head. How do they do it?
This morning starts out the same: I am up at 445, getting ready to run, when Jasp steps out of his room. Guess I am getting a partner again. No biggie, a stroller run beats no run. We step out into the early morning, and it does occur to me how crazy it must look to be hauling a kid out at 5am.
Up ahead we spot a speedy looking woman running. She’s jaunty, and fit looking to contrast my hunched over plod. We pass by her, and I offer the smile that we early morning runners always give each other. She shoots back “You’re awesome!”
Now, I am painfully aware on the scale of awesomeness I am so far from the awesome category. I am on the “totally not awesome” side of the scale. But for just maybe a quarter mile of that run I felt awesome. Ok…I always feel happy on a run, but I felt less pitiful and maybe just a little bit like the ultra moms and their early morning runs. Reality came back by the time I was passing a sippy cup of milk at mile 3, but I had my brief moment of awesomeness this morning.
Thanks, random runner…I needed that little pick me up.