From the children.
We all need it, even those wonderful-amazing-homeschooling-attachment parenting-child loving-martyrs of moms need it.
I haven’t really talked about my training or running lately, and frankly I probably should more. Keeps me accountable, is fun to share something other than children/diapers/messes/war stories, and gives you a break (though, I know, you’d really just prefer to see their smiling faces. I might oblige at the end!)
Two and a half years ago I got together with a trainer in WA with a goal of improving fitness and speeding up my running. Back then, she gave me a spreadsheet with running paces on a treadmill (after having seen me run), and completely believed that I could do it. Um, yeah, she was a nut case. I couldn’t make it through one interval, much less the two additional repeats of it. Now, I say that in the nicest way, because I know she really just had more faith in me than I did myself (than I DO myself, most days).
A couple weeks into the program (which I was failing miserably at), I found out I was pregnant. No biggie, I’ll keep running and just slow it down. I remember trying a run in Coronado during our crazy cross-country drive, and thinking, “This is HARD.” Yeah. Found out a few weeks later it was triplets. There went the running!
Fast forward two years. I’ve gotten back into it, suffered through a half-marathon (wow, is it different after a triplet pregnancy, my hips are still not back in the right spot, I think!), and done a triathlon. But I want more. I want to get faster. And I (stupidly) signed up for an olympic triathlon in 3 short months which may just kill me.
So I tried that training plan once more. And didn’t die this time. Yeah, it still sucks. But not quite as much as it used to. And I did start to get faster. I finally could run faster than an 11 minute mile on a regular basis. And I can almost do the intervals without stopping for water. Insert a 5k this weekend, and I was shooting for my first sub-30 minute yet. Low and behold, I pulled off a 30:32! Not too shabby. I wouldn’t be as upset about it if I hadn’t walked a few times. Went out too fast, too much wine the night before (never thought I’d say that phrase!), and a stomach cramp or two later, I found a sweet old man, white beard and all, and followed him along the way to the finish line. We kept each other going, and it wasn’t as rough with him beside me (I mean, really, if he can do it, I have nothing to complain about!).
So the journey begins. Less than 12 weeks until I swim almost 1.5km (0.97mi), bike 40k (25 miles), and run 10k (6.2m). Lord help me…
At least these little munchkins will be at the finish line!