I haven’t been a runner for very long. Although the military imposed running on me years ago, I didn’t discover the joy and freedom of running until after my son was born. Going for a run began to take on a whole new meaning then. “This is something my body can do!” I might not be able to birth, but I can run.
It started out as a desperate way to lose the weight I had packed on during my pregnancy. But then I began to sign up for races. A 5K here, a 10K there… It kept me focused on the next race, the next goal. Then I started to realize that I was pretty darn good at it! I could run for miles at a time, when just a year ago I could barely walk to the kitchen after my cesarean.
So I started making bigger goals. Another half marathon, the Army Ten Miler, and I am most excited about: The 2014 Walt Disney World Marathon! I can hardly believe it. I must be crazy.
But lately, when I have a rough day or need a break, I lace up and hit the road. Because I might not be able to control the crazy coworker who shushed me in the middle of a meeting, or change any of the things that I couldn’t control on the day my son was born, but I CAN control my run. My pace, my breath, my stride, my playlist. Because I am a runner, even on days when I don’t feel like a mother.