Happy times

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.

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