Friday, July 29, 2011
My Number One Fan
Since January 3rd of this year, I have ran over 500 miles. I didn't mean to hit such a cool number the week of my marathon, but that's what happened. Those miles were done in the cold, in the snow, on a treadmill, in the morning, in the evening, on a Saturday, on a Tuesday, by myself, with a friend, with more than one friend, with family, in a race, on a whim, at 2am, up a hill, up a mountain, down a hill, and down a mountain.
It's been an incredible six months of running for me. Despite the varied terrain, miles, times of day and running partners, one thing has been constant; a sweet and sexy babysitter.
My husband has been unwavering and rock-like in his support for my little running habit. Almost every Saturday morning since January, I have set my alarm and been out the door before anyone else wakes up. He has loved getting the kids breakfast on the weekends and playing with them all morning. I know the kids have loved all their time with daddy and have loved staying in their pjs until lunch.
Since the weather has been warm, he has also pinch hit on weekdays too. He gets up early and is ready for work before the kids wake up so he can make them breakfast. (Am I the only one who thinks it's sexy when a man whips up waffle batter from scratch?)
It's not a unique concept for a mom/woman to need things in her life to help her keep her identity. Even though we ask for it and welcome the way our kids take over our lives, keeping our original identity, the one we came with is almost a primal need. So although our name may get replaced by ______'s mom, we still need to know who we are.
I'm not saying that my identity is a runner. I do run. I like it. But more importantly, it's my time. It's my time to remember who I am. Remember what's important to me. Remember why I wanted to be a mother and wife so bad in the first place. It's more than a run. I become balanced.
Chris gets that. He knows I'm a better mom after a 6am Monday morning run. Three sweet monsters are easier to take on when I've already conquered 6 miles before breakfast. He knows I look forward to setting my alarm before 5 on a Saturday because I have a 20 miler planned. (Yes, I said LOOK FORWARD TO.) He gets me.
Which is why I can't wait to see his handsome face at the finish line tomorrow. It's the same face I've seen after all those 500 plus miles. It's the same face I'll see for the next 5 million.
Thank you darling. I love you.