It’s been a down day around here. We’re getting some much-needed rain, but it’s putting a damper on my desire to take both kids out in the BabyJogger for a run. In an effort to feel happier and more balanced, I thought I’d remind myself of how many of my good times in life were thanks to my active lifestyle.
- Running the 1999 Boston Marathon with my dad. It was his 60th marathon and his slowest marathon (3:46). I had an awful day, but he didn’t complain one bit. It was then I knew that he would always have faith in me.
- Early morning long runs with my friends from Cambridge Sports Union. And the leisurely lunches and conversations that followed. It was then I knew that the running community was so important to me.
- Running a 5K while six months pregnant and placing first in my age group. When I went up to claim my medal, someone shouted: “Give her two! She needs something for the baby book.” And, indeed, that’s how things transpired.
- Sitting in the start area of the London Marathon, using a breast pump to express milk just minutes before the gun went off. It was then I knew I was a mother and a runner, each one making the other stronger.
- Running through the Royal Parks of London with my husband and pushing our infant son in the Baby Jogger. It was then I knew I was living a fairytale.
- Finding the perfect (for us) house in Austin, where we could raise our family. Good schools, plenty of yard, and hilly but not too hilly for a Baby Jogger. It was then I knew that location, location, location would always be informed by my priorities.
- Having my boys cheer me on as I push them on a run. My older son, a train afficianado, often says, “Keep those pistons pumping!” as we’re climbing a hill.
Maybe I should pop them in, throw on the rain cover, and get pumping.