running (on empty)

so... it's been approximately 14 months since my last run.  it was a tearful day when i hung up my mizuno's and sobbed to my husband (who kept nodding and smiling because i was an emotional pregnant woman) that I JUST COULDN'T DO IT ANYMORE!  

not because i didn't want to... but because i simply couldn't.

i know some of you girls who somehow kept running through your pregnancies.  you amaze me.  if i had golden crowns and scepters, i'd give you one of each.  because this girl could absolutely not trot one mile further.  

it was quite a strange revelation for me.  i mean, i'd been running for 5 years of my life.  i'd completed three 1/2 marathons, a handful of 10K's and countless 5K's in very respectable form... but the minute Leif sprang into existence, my body sold me out.  it decided HE was more important... i guess it was right.  it only took me the entire first trimester to figure out it wasn't about ME anymore. 

sometimes i don't catch on too quickly. 

i think my last run was 4 miles... i can't remember.  i just remember that it was a sunday and i was so dog tired from trying to continue my running regiment that i slept the afternoon away and woke up with the sorest thighs i'd ever had in my life.  

while this might be normal for someone who doesn't run, to someone who ran these distances weekly for 5 years, it seemed a little strange.  i decided i could no longer go at that pace anymore. 

 hence... the quitting. 

well... maybe a nicer way to say it was... the pausing.  

so...

i resorted to lifting weights and dreaming about running.  during my pregnancy i'd have these amazing dreams about running.  i'd wake up refreshed and excited... and then i'd wistfully remember that it would probably be quite awhile before running was like that for me again.  

then leif was born and i had two handsome guys in my life.  but time flew out the window and i'd find myself thinking... will i ever get to go back?  it was a very scary thought because running has been my outlet for years.  i had started running in 2006 to get in shape for my trip to Israel and challenge myself physically... but then it became more than that.  i completed my first half marathon in 2008 with my dad, mom and handsome man cheering wildly for me at the finish line.  

little did i know that 9 months later my dad would be diagnosed with cancer and my life would seemingly spin into uncertainty.  during this time running kept me grounded.  it was my place to talk to (and scream at) God.  i remember in June, when we found out that my dad's cancer had metastasized, i went out for a run right before a rainstorm.  i was so upset i could hardly see straight.  i started jogging down my typical path and got about 300 feet away from the trailhead when the rain and thunder started.   i was so pissed off... not so much about the storm but about the fact that my dad was going to die.  then i started crying.  

and it wasn't a pretty cry... it was definitely an ugly cry.  

but i didn't care.  i threw my fists up and God and screamed... i was angry.  i wanted to know WHY.  WHY was i going to lose my dad?  i sobbed "why" over and over and turned around.  i sprinted home with feet that could have broken through concrete.  when i got back to the trailhead i just continued screaming why and sobbing.  i think it was an adult temper tantrum in the presence of God.  

it was OK, though... God totally understood.

and when i got home... i had cried it all out and had physically exhausted myself.  the shortest run of my life had become a pivotal moment to vent to God face to face... who had it all under control.  there was the real, vulnerable me... standing in front of God like a frightened child.  and He was there... His heart breaking right alongside of me.... filling me up with peace and mercy.

after my dad passed away, running became a place to pray for strength and to focus myself on the joys and beauty of life and the blessings i had.  it became a routine i needed to help me move forward... out of the pain and heartache. 

seasons passed and i began to heal... and though i'll never be the same... i hope i can say that i've become a better person because of what i went through.  i know it was only because of grace and mercy that i pressed forward... and God used running as a way to stitch me back together...

step by step.

so you see what it's important to me... right?
you see why i was devastated when i realized that i couldn't do it?

this month leif coltrane turned 7 months old!  SEVEN MONTHS!!!  i can't even believe how fast he's grown.  he's amazing... so smiley and giggly.  he raises one eyebrow at me just like his dad and has such a calm soul.  i love that kid...  just love him.

it also just so happens to be my favorite time of year to run.  i love the smell of fall leaves and the crisp autumn air.  i love afternoon highs in the 60's.  since i'm still breastfeeding leif there was just no way i could run before work like i used to.  i already get up at 5 to feed leif and get to work by 7:15 (OK, OK... i'm always 5 minutes late... 7:20).  running would mean a 4 AM wake up call... and i'm already tired as it is.  

but cool afternoons are great for me.  i can come home, feed leif and then leave for a run.  so about a month ago when the weather was just right (overcast, the air heavy with the smell of leaves) i decided

it.

was.

time.

since i had basically done nothing but work, laundry and take care of a baby for the past 6 months, i started from scratch, the way i first began running 6 years ago.  i have a book with a run/walk plan.  it's all based on intervals.  the first run is: run 1 min., walk 2 min., 12 times.  essentially, you increase the running time and decrease the walking intervals over a 12 week period until you are running a solid 60 minutes.  my running partner, B, and i always run intervals.  it's just that we'd do a 5 or 10 minute interval, walk 1 minute and do it again.  so that's my goal.  

the first week of runs were brilliant.  i came home happy, crunching leaves all the way.  i'd come trotting up to my house, rays of sunshine oozing out of my pores.  i'd kiss kjaer and leif and exclaim, "it's like i'm super-mom!!!" and hop in the shower feeling like a champ.  

the next week my running time increased to 2 minutes which added another mile and a half onto my journey.  this first big increase happened to take place on a very warm (80 degree) afternoon.  about halfway through i was sucking air and thinking WHY the HELL do i like this?

it was a dark, dark moment for me.  

i think my dog was thinking the same thing too.  by the end of it he was trotting very slowly behind me and i was practically pulling him home.  

it was a tad bit disheartening.  

the following week we were struck down with the stomach flu... and now we have some nasty virus.  so... needless to say, although i've been getting out the door... it isn't at the rate i imagined it would be.  i get a run in here or there, but increasing my intervals seems pointless because every time i get a week under my belt, we get knocked down with some illness and i can't run for the next week.

the problem is... i want to be in killer shape NOW.  i don't want to do all of the hard work it takes to get there.  i just want to snap my fingers, lose my last 15 pounds and be a runner again.  i want to lace up my shoes, start my garmin and run off into an oblivion without wondering how many more seconds until i can walk again?  

but that isn't how it works, is it?  it's the showing up every day, the sweat, the tears that define us... and not just in running... in life.  if we had our way and life came so simply... we'd all be walking around with heads as big as the moon and hearts the size of peas.  life was designed to mold and shape us through patience, perseverance and yes... humility.   (and trust me, chubby mommy thighs rubbing together and sucking air after running for 90 seconds is currently keeping me humble).   these are the things that make or break us... and i want it to make me so that each day i'm more refined and gracious than the last.

so... even though my tank seems as if it's out of gas.  even though i run two minutes (and stare at my watch for the last minute of every 2 minute interval whilst i wheeze away)... i'm going to keep on trucking.  in doing so i hope to find a part of my old self and pieces of myself i've never known before... all the while,  staying grateful, focused and grounded.  

well... that's my prayer, at least.