And The Funk Goes On

I am in complete disbelief that the weekend is already over. Not for everyone, of course. As in the case of my 5 year old, she will enjoy one more day of rest tomorrow. But, it is back to the grind stone for most, including myself, and that goes for the training, as well.

I have officially decided to run/jog/walk to the finish of the Carlsbad Marathon next weekend. It will be an interesting day, to say the least, but I am excited to get a really long run in, with aid along the way. I love support on a long run and to "race" without any expectation or pressure. The best part is, I am not even running under my name, not that anyone but me cares anyway, so there is really no expectation to produce any kind of respectable time. I am completely discouraged that marathon finish times are such a mystery to me now. I am never quite sure what the day will bring.

I have many theories, but none I can base concretely as to why I cannot run a "successful" and consistent marathon anymore. Before having two kids, I was able to consistently run sub 3:30 (or right around that time) marathons void of any GI issues. Now, I cannot seem to break the 3:45 barrier, and always with GI distress. I am not sure exactly what has changed in my training program or my chemistry, other than perhaps I am really not running as many miles as I used to log before motherhood responsibilities. Whatever the case may be, I have to continuously remind myself that finish time is not really the main objective. I am grateful to have a husband who supports my habit (or, more accurately, my addiction) to running and exercise, and that I am so happy for the opportunity to live in a beautiful place and "race" with the Pacific Ocean as my backdrop. Overall, I think it is very safe to say I would not ever trade motherhood (or the havoc it caused on my body) for faster marathons. I love my little people and feel so very grateful to have and hold them.

Yet, pregnancy is a funny thing. It was a long, hard, dreadful road. I will never understand the woman who exclaims she loves being pregnant. Some would argue that there is little to truly celebrate, until the baby actually arrives. I know that sounds awful. Of course, there is the excitement of a little life fluttering in the belly. But does it outweigh the morning sickness, swollen feet, and constant heartburn? It is not often talked about, but I think many women who have had the privledge to experience pregnancy would agree that it is difficult and was a time of survival, a means to an end for something greater. There were so many sacrifices along the way. Adjusting to non-caffinated mornings, trying to maintain stellar nutrition, giving up the vanity thing and losing all control to a body that was unrecognizable to me. I had to quit long runs, then running altogether for a non-impact morning in the dreaded pool, then on to bedrest, which meant no exercise at all. If I sound selfish, I guess I am. But, I would not change any of it. I truly think that pregnancy was the first step in preparing for parenthood. It was a lesson in selflessness, an act of courage, and the very first taste of realizing what it truly means to have to be flexible. And when those 40 weeks of trial were over, there was a tiny little creature, a living, moving miracle, and all of the doubts and promises of "never again" faded away. I did, aferall, do it twice, and with no regrets!

Marathoning is not all that different. The 16-20 weeks of training are grueling and come with many sacrifices, as well (long runs in 30 degree darkness come to mind first). Then race day comes, and I am never really sure what it will look like. The finish always brings emotion, no matter what the outcome, and all of the thoughts along the way, promises sworn that I will never run one again, are immediately replaced by thoughts of planning for the next venture when I see people passing out the phamplets for upcoming races.

So, which came first, the chicken or the egg? Am I a better, more dedicated mom because I was first a marathoner? Or am I a better(albeit slower) marathoner because I am a mom? If I tell myself it is not all about the finish time, then what is it really about? I think it is still the journey. Growing a human or growing a training program, the journey is never boring. There is so much to experience and learn all of the time. If I were advising my 5 year old before a swim meet, I would tell her to just do the best she can, knowing she will take away a lesson from her experience, regardless of where she finishes. I think I may have to give myself the same advice. Not for this upcoming weekend, of course, but more for the LA marathon. I want to enjoy the journey of 26.2 miles and learn from the experience and maybe be touched by some people along the way. I have loved the training and pushing myself to new limits with faster training partners. I just hope it translates into a beautiful birth of a day March 4th.