A Dream of Fields

A few weeks ago I had two weird dreams in the same night. In one, I had sex with a fat nasty chef in exchange for cooking lessons and in the other, Jeff and I left the kids unattended in a field so we could meet up with our running groups, and were subsequently picked up by Department of Child and Family Services.  I awoke a little disturbed, but mostly humored. Eating and running are popular subjects in our home and both command a lot of our attention consciously and apparently subconsciously. Let me fill you in on the running subject…

Brooklyn Half Pre-Race Party at Brooklyn Bridge Park
(this picture was taken at an amazing fitness playground for all ages)

As I picked up Julien from daycare the other day, a fellow parent noticed my Brooklyn Half t-shirt, and commented on how impressed she was that I ran that race, given that I also had an 8-month old. It was a hurried interaction, and I quickly replied with a shaky, brushed off “ha, yeah” and moved on to pick up Colette next door. As I walked home with the kids, Julien in the Ergo and Colette holding my hand, her comment stuck with me.  I felt proud and I wanted to scream back….”fuck, yeah, I ran the Brooklyn Half, but I also ran the New York City Half and the Austin Half …starting at 4 months post-partum and all within 3 months of one another!!!”

It took an outsiders comment for me to pause for a second and reflect on the drive, hard work, and incredible support that made those races possible. I’m proud not only of myself, and my Run Club, but especially proud of my running support crew Jeff, my Sister Shawna and my Mom.   I had the ambition but they are ones who made it possible.

Brooklyn Half post-race party at Coney Island

Jeff and I hardly run together. He’s faster and prefers to run later in the day than me.  Also, he needs to stay behind to watch the kids (although a field, fenced-in of course, sounds like it has some potential). I often run early in the morning when the kids and I have the most energy, unfortunately it’s when Jeff has the least, but he feigns interest in play-doh and paints, until I return sweaty and happy with muffins and coffee (basically, anytime I cross the threshold, night or day, Colette asks if I have muffins). He tends to run when the kids are napping or already asleep, which for obvious reasons is fabulous no matter my energy level. He never pressures me to shorten my runs, or return home soon and I try to offer him the same courtesy.  We encourage one another when it’s hot or rainy, or need the extra kick out the door, to go out and get it done. 

My hot Mama

I hardly run with my Mom and Shawna, either, even though we run at the same pace.  It’s a special treat to run with them when they visit us in Brooklyn or on our monthly trips to West Hartford.  Shawna is an ambitious, athletic, busy, working mom with two kids under the age of 4 so naturally she gets me and I get her.  When I bitch about my thighs chaffing in running skirts and saggy tits in sports bras, she laughs and responds with a joke about not having tits. We encourage one another to sign up for races (NYC Marathon 2014…here we come), listen and share advice on work, parenting, running and life.

My Mom and her running deserves a post all on it’s own. In   short, she’s incredibly talented and inspiring. She wants in…on everything; every trip, every race, every pre-race party, every post-race party, every first place in her age group. She’s pretty damn good about getting what she wants. We love her a lot so we want her in on everything too.  She will turn 60 next year and can keep pace with her 30 something year old daughters, not for 1 mile or 2, but 13.1! That’s insane and awesome. Most often, I run alone, but with those three by my side, it’s never lonely.