With Camille in kindergarten and Daphne on the verge of walking, change is big around here. Emotions are running wild. Camille is over tired from all the new things she's learning and loads of new rules. Daphne is frustrated she can't move like us or talk like us. My 5 year old whines about how she guessed the wrong number of groceries in the bag and my 11 month old whines she lost her balance for the hundredth time. There is no quiet. Sometimes I wish the day was over by 11 a.m.
Time seems to be slipping away. Days are somewhat like this: Up at 4:45-5 with Daphne, drink coffee, eat, start my run 6:15-6:30, get home by 8:00, stretch (or at least think of it while the girlies hang on my sweaty legs), shower, run errands, help Camille with her homework, eat lunch, walk to school, walk home, put Daphne down, frantically clean/straighten the house, check e-mail, make list of things I should do tomorrow, head back to school, run another errand, make dinner, play with girls, do baths, make "an adult dinner," eat, pass out after reading 3 pages of the book I've been reading for four months.
At least I have my runs. There is some quiet there. I have my music and my thoughts. The music is just background, or maybe the thoughts are, but regardless, in tandem they are cleansing.
Last week Barry was traveled to Portland. He left early Tuesday and came home late Friday. After a rough week of squeezing treadmill runs in at the gym, play-dates and a sick baby (why does that always happen when one parent is gone?) I was so looking forward to my 20 mile run. I didn't want company. I just wanted to run and have the quiet. No rush, no treadmill, no daycare. Just me, my music, and my breathing.
The run turned out to be pretty good. I was nervous heading out, not quite sure how my ankle would cooperate. It's still giving me some trouble, especially at the Achilles. At best it's a seven on a scale of one to ten, ten being just fantastic. The ligaments seem to be back to normal but the soft tissue surrounding them is still tender and I've developed a Ganglion cyst right at the base of my ankle. I guess this is from overuse. But 6 miles into my run Saturday I didn't notice a thing. I downloaded a This American Life and just ran; clicking of 9s for the first 12 and then surprised myself with 8:30s for the last eight. I hope for a run this good on marathon day.
The marathon is still on. The closer it gets the more committed I am. If I don't make it I would be dissapointed. I dread that feeling of marathon day when you're not running your marathon. Talk about a bummer.
Camille makes signs for me that she stacks on my pillow so I see them before I go to sleep. This weekend I had one in my car and when I got back to it after my first 12 miles, I had a moment looking at that picture she painted. She's so wise. So confident in whatever she does. I need that from her and looking at the picture gave that.
"How many more sleeps until the race, Mommy?" She doesn't know how hard all this is. Balancing my training, the house, my practice, her schedule, Daphne's schedule, trying to remember to be a good wife. She just wants to go watch me run. I wish this was all as innocent as she thinks. To her, it's just a day I'm going to be running and she is going to watch. No big deal. Mommy's doing a run where we get to stay in a hotel and swim in the pool.
I should take that as a lesson. The marathon IS just a run where she gets to watch. We all get to go, stay in a hotel, go out to eat. And just like any other weekend day I go for a run.