New Shoes for Me

There are days these days when it's all about me. You don't hear moms who can say that very often. And really, it's not completely accurate. But hey...there are moments in those days when it is about ME.

I started running a year or so ago because I could run 3 miles a little faster than I could walk 3 miles. That allowed me to exercise then go on with the rest of my day which was at that time about everyone else and what they needed. I picked running because I could then do all of the other things I needed to do and still squeeze in that time for myself without sacrificing anyone else.

It changed about 8 weeks ago though when I decided to train to do a half marathon. Half marathons are 13.1 miles which takes most of us two or more hours to do. In my case way more than 2 hours to do, but I'll get to that later.

So this training starts to add up. My short runs shot up to an hour long instead of the half hour. I had to add a long run to the routine and that took at least 2 hours. There is a good 4-6 hours of ME running. I also became more known to people around here as a runner, so when a boot camp class was scheduled I was on the email list. And I joined. So that added 2 evenings a week at an hour and a half each to my "training". See...it's becoming more and more about ME. MY. I.

Before my boot camp class I would make sure that the crockpot was cooking something savory and yummy. That salad was made. That there was sourdough bread to be served. And then...off I went. The R actually served the meal. I would come home dripping in sweat, desperately seeking a shower, after which I'd get into my jammies (see where this is going?), scoop some savory crocked food into a bowl, slice and butter a piece of bread and hunker down for my dinner. So this hour and a half becomes closer to 2 and a half hours that are all about ME. Because I also selected the tv show to watch while I ate. I. am. so. selfish!

I don't feel that it's all about me while I'm running or being booted around. It's hard, hard, work. I've never put myself through anything as difficult physically. I'm just not that type. The boot camp is great for me because I do not set the pace. My body feels like it's really been used once it's over. Part of the high is seeing that I can meet these challenges; it's not completely endorphins, though those help! Once the run is done, I can feel what I've done for MYself.

This all about me thing can be pretty good. We all need to put ourselves at the top of the list sometime. Some families are better about cherishing everyone in the family I suppose. Before the half marathon I did last weekend, the other women, their families, and my family got together for a pre-race pasta dinner. One of the women has done it for most of her big races. One of the daughers, just a year younger than the N, gave each of us ladies a chocolate truffle and a note of encouragement. Something to the effect of "You go, girl!". Never in a million years would that occur to my family.

The next morning, on our pre-sunrise ride up, one woman (the one with the lovely truffle daughter) talked about the notes her kids wrote and left out for her over night. One of the other moms talked about the little recorded notes her kids had put onto her ipod. It made me realize that my running was something that I just kept in a seperate box from my family. They weren't that aware of it since I tend to run before most of the household has gotten up. The N is really the only one who thinks to talk to me about it and his comments are mainly about my time goals. And not necessarily in a good way (like if I miss a goal by a couple of minutes he'll harp on it!) Maybe part of it is that I have all boys and a husband who is pretty blunt.

A lot of the encouragement I receive is from other women...and it is that typical girlie talk about "you can do it", "you are so ready",... You know, the kind of superficial, nice talk that is kind, but not really specifically about me and my skill level. I did have one woman tell me how "proud" she was of me, which I took as a misuse of the word proud. I can't imagine anyone but me being proud of me.

It was nice when we crossed the finish line (the slower 2 of us) and the other 2 women were cheering us on. It was nice to be seen and recognized. Usually I run alone, cross the line alone, get my water alone, use the toilet, then drive home alone. And since they were so rested, being so much faster and all, they were able to help get water, since I had completely lost my breath sprinting to the finish once I finally (and believe me I was so thrilled to finally see it!) saw the timing clock : 02:32:46. Our marathon training friends had finished in less than 2 hours (01:57 and 01:59). They knew we needed some help! We had both had some foot issues during the run so it was nice to be able to sit and catch our breath. It's nice to have someone who understands why we're mad at our damn shoe because it feels like there is a rock in there when there isn't.

I didn't feel bad though that my family didn't focus more on what I've been doing. I've kept it to myself in a way. I don't make a big deal about it or talk about it alot. It MY thing. But it was also nice to share it with a few other women who made it THEIR thing, too.

And to my marathon training friends "You can do it! You are so ready!" And I so mean it!