Running After Becoming A Mom

I sat down at my computer about 45 minutes ago, willing myself to type. I promised myself I’d write something this week, yet here I am, scrolling through Instagram and googling and sufficiently distracting myself from the fact that I can’t think of anything I want to discuss on the internet. I have an overwhelming number of thoughts and observations swirling in my head, but they’re not cohesive, they don’t flow, they’re confusing even for me.

Do I have anything worthwhile to contribute?

Does anyone care what I have to say? 

I’ve recently re-read things I used to write and thought were just genius, but here I am now wondering what the actual F was I thinking?

I try to corral the thoughts like horses into a stable, willing myself to choose one to saddle up and take for quick jaunt, but then bam. It’s as though someone dropped a huge, heavy box in front of me, landing with a thud, so big I can’t see around it, watching it come toward me as though I have 3D glasses on. The thoughts appear with force, encompassing my surroundings. They aren’t negative or disparaging, they’re notable simply because of the multitude of them. I want to talk about running and motherhood and parenting and friendships and my career and my goals and the future and where I want to travel and what I’m anxious about and what I’m looking for in life, but they all seem too scrambled in my brain to attempt to invoke any sense of meaning.

As a new mom motherhood is a big one, of course, though I’m afraid to offend someone or inadvertently make them feel bad or that my opinions and experiences will change next week and I’ll be labeled a liar. I love putting my voice out there, even when it’s a quiet vote for an unpopular opinion, hearing a small chorus of “you too? Me too!”. I find the most engaging writing to be scary to share, something that inspires brilliant conversation and discovery if we are willing to be open and to listen…but these days I feel fragile.

I’ll say that I love being a mom and am obsessed with my daughter. I want to stare at her and love her and kiss her cheeks all day, I think she gets at least 1,000 kisses per morning. The not-so-wonderful thing about being a mother, however, is when I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy and imagining the traumatizing scenarios happening to my child and squeezing her while crying my eyes out.

Also, my clothes are now just fancy napkins.

I’m training for my third New York City Marathon this November and it’s invigorating. I haven’t run a marathon since 2013, which is surprising to me because it doesn’t seem like it has been that long. Reaching distances I haven’t run since long before pregnancy is an incredible mood booster – I’m up to 14 miles now. The soreness that comes with double-digit mileage and the joy of feeling healthy is inviting and encouraging, reminding me I’m actually doing this!

Since pregnancy, I’ve had a steadfast belief that I would come back stronger after having a baby. Even after not exercising during pregnancy, hitting the lowest mental and physical point in my life thus far. I see it as a clean slate, believing a forced focus on only the most important things can be the catalyst to greatness. I’m a blank canvas, as though any injuries and any little imbalances have worked themselves out. I believe it doesn’t immediately show itself in speed or records but in consistency and a kind of strength you can’t always pinpoint as a number or an event but a feeling. I believe this because I’ve chosen to focus on women who have done so. Women who have set PRs and won races and have visibly become more positive, happier, tougher.

I feel stronger, despite (or maybe because of?) taking a year off and starting at a painfully slow pace (not pace as in speed, but pace as in amount of running vs walking). Not in the as-strong-as-I-once-was way, but at 10 months postpartum it’s still early for that. I felt this strength even at the beginning, when I was running one minute of every five, surprising myself when catching myself inadvertently smiling on a run. I grew a human, I survived a very tough pregnancy, I gave birth. Nothing can take that away from me; it has been the biggest catalyst for growth for me personally.

I recover more quickly, my mental game feels easier, the questioning and worrying and overall concern disappears and it’s just me running and feeling strong. I’m not perfect but eventually, as I continue to work, I have faith I’ll see results I only envisioned in dreams.

I can still imagine PRs in my future.

As Brendan keeps saying, “you really jumped right in to this whole mom thing!” – mainly because now I see other babies and say “AWWWW LOOK” when I was never ever (EVER) like that before – so to continue along with “the whole mom thing”, I’ve decided to fundraise for Every Mother Counts for the NYC Marathon and it has given my life more purpose and meaning and a sense that I can do more with this life I’ve been given, which has been an incredible gift. The importance of advocating for people who need help is central to my personality and I hope I can make a small difference.

In one sentence: tell me a thought swirling in your brain. (Maybe we’re not alone!)