Thankful Things

Before this all-too-short season of thankfulness closes and we launch headlong into the season of excessive consumerism, I wanted to take a chance to remind myself of all the reasons I have to be thankful.  I need to remind myself that joy is a choice, and gratitude is a lifestyle.  Especially now, when events in our community are unstable and uncertain, I want to ground myself in the tangible reminders that life is good.

These little faces provide infinite reasons to be grateful.

In no particular order, I am thankful for:

• my body that powers me through long runs and hill workouts as well as the daily grind of motherhood.
• my husband, who appreciates what I do for our family and reminds me to laugh.
• my kids, who teach me the full range of human emotion.  From rapturous joy to unending frustration, they show me that life is meant to be lived to its fullest.
• my friends, both those in real life and those BAMRs I only know virtually through Strava.  They keep me honest, motivated, and accountable.
• the delay brew feature on my coffee pot.  The promise of coffee keeps my feet moving on cold, early morning winter runs.
• running and blogging.  Both provide outlets for me to relieve stress and enable me to focus on myself for just a little bit.

Just a few of the friends and family who help pull me through the daily grind of life.

 What are your tangible reminders that life is good?

Five Miles for Ferguson

As the entire world knows, my beloved hometown is wrought with tension, anger, and unrest today.  I understand the anguish over a lost human life.  I understand the desire for justice.  I understand the frustration with inequality.  But I don't understand violence, hatred, and vandalism.  Peaceful protests take a stand and push for change; violence simply creates more violence.

With all of these thoughts weighing heavily on my heart, I woke up this morning and prepared for a solo run.  I scanned news headlines and #ferguson on Twitter to learn that cooler heads had not prevailed during the (too few) hours that my head was on the pillow.  I laced up and headed towards the door with apprehension and unease.  What would I hear when I opened it?  Would I see smoke on the horizon?  My neighborhood is 15 miles from the Ferguson rioters and 5 from the Shaw demonstrations.  Rationally, I knew there was no chaos in my immediate vicinity, but I couldn't help feeling queasy as I set out.

I traced a familiar route, and the emotions I'd been quashing came bubbling up to the surface:  Anger over the senseless violence.  Heartbreak for the businesses and residents of Ferguson.  Disappointment that our city couldn't maintain peaceful protests while in the international spotlight.  Uncertainty about how I would explain to my children why their school is closed today.  Guilt that I could spend an hour running alone through a beautiful neighborhood while just a few miles away families don't have that luxury.  Further guilt that I can tell my children that this is a grown-up problem and they are safe while my counterparts in Ferguson cannot do the same; for too many children, the violence and hatred is an unavoidable reality.  Overwhelming grief and sadness that no one wins in this situation.  We all lose.

At the end of my run, I desperately wanted to witness a beautiful sunrise,
as a promise that darkness does not last forever, that hope springs from defeat.
 Instead, I found this cloudy sky whose gloom matched that of my heart.

I pounded through the miles, letting my thoughts wander and tears flow.  I forced myself to use the time to process so I could answer my kids' questions and survive this emotionally exhausting day.  At the end of the run, I had not resolved any of my questions nor had I reconciled my thoughts and feelings.  But I was five miles stronger, five miles more balanced, five miles closer to accepting that I will never understand the complexity of humankind.  It's not much, but it's a start.

This shirt was a must today: because I decompressed on the run,
I can handle (almost) whatever this day throws at me.

We - the collective we - have many more miles to log before we can settle the unrest and heal the hurt.  I pray that we can find peace in our city and muster energy to rebuild the massive destruction of our hearts, businesses, and communities.  If you're the praying sort, please pray for peace in St. Louis and throughout our nation.  If not, carry Ferguson in your heart; offer your miles for those who cannot safely log their own today.

Seeking Balance and Setting Boundaries

This morning's run was everything I needed it to be.  The air was a crisp 35* as I set out, which felt clean and refreshing.  Real cold weather is just now returning to St. Louis, so this was one of my first truly cold runs, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  [Talk to me again in February, and I'm sure I'll have a different opinion of cold weather runs.  But for today, I'll take it ;) ]

Since it is Sunday, I had the luxury of sleeping in (until 6:15) and running in the daylight!  I nearly forgot how nice it is to run under sunlight rather than streetlights.  On our usual morning runs, the sun doesn't rise until after I've run, showered, and fixed my kids' school lunches.  But today, with the sun shining and the brisk air all around me, I felt lighthearted, without a care in the world.

I intended to use the run as a chance to run down my long to-do list for the week.  To make mental notes about the phone calls and e-mails I need to send.  To organize the minutiae of the busy days ahead.  I accomplished none of those tasks, and surprisingly, I'm okay with that.

One of my favorite trees every fall.
Its leaves hit every shade of fall splendor and never fail to amaze me.

In my new-found life as a SAHM and volunteer, I've found it difficult to outline my boundaries, determining where my obligations to the organizations I serve begin and end.  I'm still finding my way, and since I don't have a clue what I'm doing, I've donated the bulk of my time, energy, and attention to my volunteer work.  When I worked a paying job, I had set hours, I clocked in and out, and though I did some work from home, the bulk of my work happened at my desk in the office.  Now that I'm staying home and volunteering for church and school, my hours are anything but standard and the work happens wherever and whenever it can, which lately seems to be everywhere all the time.  I've logged countless hours organizing communications and formulating strategic plans for them while my own house has suffered from disorganization.  And that isn't going to work for me.

So I'm reclaiming some of my time for myself and my family.  I'm setting boundaries, and today's run served as a perfect example of that.  Instead of perfecting the agenda for Wednesday's PTA meeting, I got lost in a podcast.  I focused on my form and my breathing rather than volunteer lists and upcoming events.  Not preoccupied with other tasks, I marveled at the few trees still clinging to their fall foliage.  Just for fun, I challenged myself to run negative splits, a goal that seemed unreachable when I blew through a surprisingly speedy fourth mile.  But somehow I hung on and logged two even faster miles to finish a nice 10k with picture-perfect splits.

I finished the run feeling more balanced than I have in a couple months.  I plan to cling to my resolve to do good work as a volunteer without sacrificing the needs of my family or myself.  How do you balance all of the competing demands on your time?  Any tips for striking the right balance?

Saved by the Run

Since training for my October half ended, I've been a bit relaxed in my weekend runs.  I've gotten them in, but they've happened in the late afternoon rather than the early morning, which is beyond odd for me.  Because I'm not operating under the strict rigidity of a training plan, I'm less motivated to wake up in the early morning hours on a weekend.  But by mid-day, I'm jonesing for a run, needing the endorphins to keep me humming along through the demands of family life.

Yesterday, I planned to get up early because my husband was going to be gone at a day-long training session.  Knowing that underslept and over-sugared post-Halloween kids would test my patience, it would have been wise for me to crank out some miles before he left for the day.  But I'm not always wise.  My alarm sounded; I silenced it without moving an inch off my pillow.  And I regretted that decision for hours...

We survived our day, but we all probably would have been happier had I gone for my run that morning.  They were predictably excitable; I was inexcusably irritable; we were all tired.  By the time my husband got home, I was desperate for the solitude of a run.  "Go ahead with dinner if they get hungry," I told him as I bolted for the door.  "I hope to be gone for a while."

The setting sun on a beautiful fall afternoon.
A much-needed reminder that life is good.

I started out at an easy pace with no clear destination in mind.  Listening to my favorite podcast and breathing the fresh autumn air, I was relaxed and peaceful for the first time all day.  My legs felt strong from the outset, and I tried to push the pace each mile.  As I cruised through the surrounding neighborhoods - at an impressive speed considering that I was largely fueled by Halloween candy - I felt alive and free.  The little things that were stressful and overwhelming earlier in the day melted away until they became utterly meaningless.

Six miles later, I returned home feeling like a new person.  All the same stresses, frustrations, and imperfections were still waiting for me, but I could tackle them with renewed energy.  The run helped put everything back into perspective and remind me that life is good.  Not perfect but good.

Do your workouts ever help turn your day around?

Why I Run: For my Kids

I run for these sweet faces.
Trust me, under the skeleton mask is a sweet little guy ;)

I run for these little people.  For their sweet, smiling faces.  For the joy they find in life.  For the simple pleasures that bring them such great joy.  For the ways they can drive me to the brink of insanity one minute and absolutely melt my heart the next.

I run to show them what it means to be strong, fit, and healthy.  To care for oneself so that you can care for others.  To push your boundaries and discover new limits.  To accept disappointment in stride and celebrate victory in the small moments.

I run so that I can be here with them for many years to come.  Watching them grow into charming young people.  Cheering for them as they work towards their goals.  Delighting in discovering who they are in this world.

I run for them.

Why do you run?

Why I Run: To Refocus

It's easy for me to get caught up in the nitty gritty details of my life.  Organizing the family calendar.  Sorting dozens of loads of laundry.  Remembering to send the blue show and tell item to school.  Preparing meals that are both reasonably healthy and reasonably likely to be eaten by my children.  Such details are obviously important and necessary to the functioning of our household, but when my life feels consumed by nothing but minutiae, I need a chance to step back and see the larger picture.

Running provides me with the perfect opportunity to trade my microscope for a telescope.  A chance to look at the bigger picture, knowing that though this stage of life can be exhausting, it is also beautifully innocent and gone in a flash.  One day my son won't want to tell me every thought that occurs to him.  One day I will look at my moody teenager and long to see the curious preschool spirit that once occupied her body.  One day my baby won't light up with joy at the sight of me and want nothing more than a mama hug.

Today is not that day, and I need moments of clarity on the run to remember that life is fleeting.  Innocence lasts just a moment - this moment - and I need to be present to see it.  Surely the days are hard and long, as are the tantrums and the frustrations.  But such is life.  Messy, crabby, and chaotic, but also joyful, loving, and beautiful.

Amen!

When I run, with fresh air in my lungs and sweat on my skin, I can change my focus.  I remember that the days are long but the years are short.  Running refreshes my spirit and recharges my body so that I can be present in the moment, whatever it has to offer.

Yoga with Kids

After today's long run, my two older kids wanted to do yoga with me. We stretched in the kitchen, working out all the kinks amidst giggles and silly faces. Our last pose was legs up the wall, which they adored. "You mean, we get to put our feet on the wall?! This is the coolest day ever!" Simple pleasures :)

I love those kid feet!

An Ode to Dan

Today my incredible husband, Dan, and I celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary.  I am infinitely lucky to have found a partner who supports me in all things: parenthood, running, life.  As this is a running blog, let's celebrate his crucial role in my running life:

• The non-morning person who fields requests for second breakfasts and milk refills on Saturdays when I'm out on a long run.  
• The patient man who listens to the very minutiae of my runs.  
• The caring partner who never fails to ask, "How was your run?"  
• The supportive husband who dragged all three kids to the precise spot I requested at my debut half marathon so I could see sweet faces just when I knew I'd need it the most.
• The endless cheerleader who believes I can do anything I set my mind to.  Because of his confidence in me, I have the courage to aim high and dream big.

He may never understand my love of running, but he knows it is part of who I am, and he supports me every step of the way.  And because of that, I am the luckiest.  Here's to my soulmate, Dan, and to many, many more years of love, laughter, and happily ever after.

It feels like only yesterday; how have 10 years elapsed?!

Cruise Ship Running

My husband and I set sail today for an Alaskan cruise to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary.  Thanks to the generosity of my sisters and parents, we are traveling sans kids for the first time ever, a thought both terrifying and exciting at the same time.  I could spend an entire blog post sorting through the various emotions accompanying this trip, but I'll spare you the drama.  Instead, let's focus on the challenges and excitement of running while cruising.

As any good Type A person would do, I've spent embarrassingly large swaths of time contemplating running options for our trip.  [Lest you think I'm single-minded, I've also spent countless hours poring over the details of my kids' schedules while we're away and planning our onshore excursions (snorkeling in Alaska, anyone?).  So I'm obsessing equally over the kids, our activities, and running ;) ]  The ship is equipped with a "jogging" track (goodness, I hate that word), which according to my research is about .2 mile around.  A mere 15 laps should get me a good 3 miles.  Sounds tolerable.  However, I have a 5-mile run scheduled this weekend, and 25 laps sounds torturous.  Perhaps I'll be soothed by the beauty of my surroundings and therefore distracted from the round and round monotony of passing the same deck chair 25 times.

A view like this could make the endless laps feel less miserable.

Since 15 laps sounds manageable and 25 sounds like the seventh circle of hell, I hope to squeeze in my long run today before we leave town.  Then I can do my next long run when we return next weekend, and I'll just enjoy some simple 3-milers while aboard the ship.  The boat also has an exercise room equipped with treadmills, so I can seek out the hamster wheel should the laps prove unpleasant.  From the pictures I've seen, I believe the treadmills face a wall of windows, providing runners with panoramic views of the ocean.  Sure beats the view from my basement treadmill...

I am most excited about the long days we'll be experiencing while traveling so far north.  Sunrise should begin around 4:45am with sunset around 9:30pm.  Given that I'm coming from the central time zone, that 4:45 sunrise will feel like 6:45 to me, which counts as major sleeping in for this mother runner.  Score!  I hope to enjoy sunrise or early dawn runs at least three times while aboard the ship.

Have you ever run on a cruise ship before?  I'm guessing that the large ship will negate most wobbling, but I'm curious to see if it will feel unsteady while running.  I'll check it out and report back next week!

Reflections One Year Later

One year ago today I returned to running two months after the birth of our third child.  I didn't take up running until our middle child was about 18 months old, so this was my first run with a postpartum body.  For months I had vacillated between excitement and horror when I thought about returning to running.  I knew it would hurt.  I knew I had lost all of my previous fitness and would have to claw my way back from ground zero.  But I also knew that running could give me balance again, save my sanity, and momentarily free my mind from the routine tasks of mothering three small children.

The night before my run, I laid out my clothes, iPod, and shoes and triple checked my alarm.  At dark o'thirty, I tried to talk myself out of going, but I knew it was now or never.  "Just get it done, lady," I told myself.  I stepped outside into a remarkably cool July morning, breathed in the fresh air, and took my first tentative steps.  And were they ever awkward.  Every inch of my body ached during the 60-second run intervals, and my lungs felt like they might explode after just a few steps.  As I plodded along, forcing myself to continue placing one foot in front of the other, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, unable to recognize the former runner housed in my doughy postpartum body.

But as awkward and clunky as my body felt, my mind was elated to be out of the house and free to explore my own thoughts.  I love my baby and my older children dearly, but I was thrilled to have this tiny break from being a mom.  To enjoy a few moments where I was just me: out of shape, sleep deprived, milk-stained me.  And I loved every second of it.

My post-run FaceBook status perfectly captures my thoughts that day.

A year later and life feels very different.  In running, I've raced a 5k, two 10ks, and a half marathon over the past year, and I'm registered for a fall half marathon, too.  In life, the Little Lady is bursting with personality, trying to learn how to walk, and chatting up a storm.  I feel healthy, strong, balanced, and miles removed from that exhausted woman who forced her unwilling body to move 365 days ago.  But she's along with me on every run, reminding me of how far I've come.  I admire her courage to restart the journey when sleep was hard to find and when her pre-run ritual required not stretching but pumping breastmilk.  She encourages me to continue when the road is difficult and inspires me to keep trying when it would be easier to quit.  I'm grateful for all I've experienced in the past year, and I look forward to many more years to celebrate running, life, family, and friends.

My Most Important Mile

My favorite running gurus over at Another Mother Runner invite readers to submit entries for a regular column called "Most Important Mile of My Life."  Last fall, I submitted an entry and was elated that my post aired on their site in November.  My 15 minutes of fame!  You can read the original post on their site, and I'm also reproducing it here.

*******

I’ve logged many significant miles: the joy of my first double-digit run, running through the frustration of a miscarriage, the terribly wonderful first postpartum run.  But my most important mile came during a 1-mile fun run with my kindergartener earlier this fall.

We were all smiles and excitement at the starting line, but our enthusiasm quickly diminished.  After about .2 miles, he had had enough.  He wanted to quit and kept telling me we were going too fast, even though our pace resembled a slug moving through quicksand.

Tears in his eyes and a forced smile on his face, but he was actually running for a moment.

We spent most of the mile walking with intermittent bursts of running.  "Just run to that tree," I begged him.  But no amount of cheering from me would get his feet moving faster than a shuffle.  I pleaded.  I cajoled.  For whatever reason, his heart was not into it.

With only .1 of a mile to go, he broke down in tears.  I showed him the finish line and promised him bagels and frozen custard after we crossed it, but he couldn't do it.  We sat on the curb crying for a few minutes until he finally regrouped enough to run the last stretch.

It was certainly not the run I had expected, but I learned a great deal about myself as a mother during that (painful, frustrating, slow) mile.  I had to set aside my type A desires and really stop to listen to my son.  That mile was about spending time with him, being patient with his frustrations, and persevering when we both would have preferred heading to the car and going home.

A few minutes after the race, he gave me a big hug and said, "Mommy, even though I cried a lot, I had fun running with you.  Can we do it again?"  

Of course, sweetheart.  Anytime.

Finally finished!

Hungry Runner: Mom's Pizza

My parents spent the first 20 years of their marriage perfecting their pizza recipe.  Unbeknownst to us, every Saturday night, they would tuck my sisters and me into bed and then make a pizza to share while watching Saturday Night Live.  Learning of this tradition as an adult, I admired their creativity and ability to work in a date without hiring a sitter.  And I've reaped the benefits of their weekly date night: an amazing pizza crust recipe.

Homemade pizza is a weekly tradition at our house, too.  We usually make it for dinner on Friday night, and I've come to love it as a perfect carb-heavy pre-long run fuel.  Even the pickiest eater in our house enjoys this recipe, helping to ensure its place in our weekly menu rotation.  A dinner without crabbing?  Yes, please.

Mom's Pizza Crust
4 cups flour
1 tbs sugar
1 tsp salt
1 1/3 cups warm water
1 tbs yeast
5 tbs olive oil

• Combine the flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer.  Once combined, make a well in the middle.
• Fill a 2-cup measuring cup with 1 1/3 cups of warm (not hot!) water.  Add yeast and olive oil to the water and whisk until combined.
• Pour the wet ingredients into the well of the dry ingredients.  Begin to combine the wet and dry ingredients either with a spoon or with the dough hook of a stand mixer.
• If mixing by hand, use a spoon until the dough holds together and then knead with your hands for several minutes.  If using a stand mixer, allow it to continue kneading the dough for several minutes after the dough holds together.
• Place dough in greased bowl and cover with a clean towel.  Allow the dough to rise for 1-2 hours.

A heart-shaped variety, as is often requested by my kids.

The Price of Sleeping In

After a broken night sleep, thanks to a cranky, teething one-year-old, I could not force myself out of bed when my alarm sounded at 5:03.  I snoozed once, then twice, then decided that an early run was definitely not going to happen.  I promised myself that I would run on the treadmill at naptime instead.  I silenced the cruel dream-crusher and fluffed my pillow for an extra hour of shut eye.

Once I was really awake, I knew that I would regret my decision to sleep late.  The kids started bickering as soon as they stepped out of bed with J-Bug sobbing three times before she made it to the breakfast table.  I sighed, wishing that I had some post-run endorphins to help me ride the tidal wave of emotions erupting in our house.

Somehow, we survived the rocky start and had a surprisingly good morning.  Some fresh air and friends helped to turn all of our moods around.  By the time everyone was down to nap, I really just wanted to crash and regroup, but I knew that I'd be frustrated with myself if I blew off my run for a second time.  I changed into running clothes, knocked the dust off my treadmill, and got down to work.

Best.craigslist purchase.ever.

My brain could tell that I'd been away from the treadmill for quite some time.  The first mile was agonizingly long and painful as I watched each second tick by on the display.  I found something of a groove late in the run, but it never really became easy.  When I finished, however, I felt unexpectedly happy.  Although I battled mental monkeys throughout the run, when it was over, I felt like a million bucks.  I was proud of myself for following through and logging some miles today.  It would have been easy to skip it entirely, but I chose to do the hard thing and run on the treadmill at an awkward time of day.  While the numbers were nothing extraordinary, the feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming.  This treadmill run was surely successful, but I'll think twice before I snooze my early alarm again...

Hello, June!

Yesterday, we spent a beautiful day enjoying some of my favorite parts of summer: playing in the sprinkler, eating a picnic lunch, racing up and down the sidewalk, riding bikes and blowing bubbles, grilling dinner, and watching the rain from the comfort of our screened porch. It was a one in a million day, and we enjoyed it to its fullest. The gorgeous weather had me itching for a run, but I knew my body needed to rest. I did yoga instead, which was refreshing and relaxing.

Playing in the sprinkler: quintessential childhood summer fun!

Today, however, I was raring to lace up and kick off the month of June mother runner-style. Emily and I met hours later than usual (7:15 as opposed to our usual 4:55 date), and we were both thrilled to be running in the sunshine. Of course, the sun meant hotter temperatures, so we included a drinking fountain stop along our route. It was a gorgeous morning, and my heart couldn't have been happier.

It was freeing to head out without a prescribed distance or a drop dead return time. Our weekday runs are squeezed into the tiny window before her husband heads to work, so we're always running against the clock. While we needed to be home today in time for church, the specific timing was much more relaxed and unhurried. What a glorious way to begin the month of June!

Hungry Runner: Granola Bars

I've always had a high metabolism, and running seems to only increase my insatiable appetite.  Over the past year, I've been nursing my baby, which makes me even hungrier.  High metabolism + running + breastfeeding = constant need for food!

I try to be conscientious about the food I feed my family.  While I don't subscribe to any specific school of thought, I try to use whole ingredients, minimize refined sugar, and incorporate fruits and vegetables as often as possible.  One of the foods I've experimented with the most is granola bars.  I love the convenience of prepackaged Quaker granola bars, but the list of ingredients is a bit unsettling.  How much sugar do we need in one little snack?!

Thus began my quest to find a great recipe for homemade granola bars.  I failed many (many, many) times, but fortunately I have a husband and at least one kid who will eat my failures.  Amidst the failures, I hit a big success with these granola bars courtesy of Weelicious.  I adjusted them slightly by using ground dates in place of the brown sugar, and they were a tremendous hit!  Even the pickiest eater in our house enjoyed them.

Race Recap: 9/15/12

This past weekend, I ran a local 5k, a race I also did last fall.  Three days after the race, I'm still feeling very conflicted about my race and my reaction to it.

In truth, I've not been in training mode of late.  I've been running without my GPS and from my heart more than from my head.  After the stress of this summer, running has taken on an adjusted role in my life.  I'm not running against the clock or with a specific plan; I'm running for me and for my mental health.

Bearing this in mind, I should not have even considered trying to break last year's time.  But I did.  I know that I'm a stronger, faster, and better runner now than I was 12 months ago, and I wanted my race time as hard-and-fast evidence of it.  Alas, I finished the race 2 seconds slower than last year, proving that I am nothing if not consistent.

I should be elated!  Without really training, I ran the course as well as last year when I did, in fact, train steadily for it.  I finished in the top 40% overall, top 25% of women, and the top 32% of my age group.  I laced up my shoes and traveled from the starting line to the finish line, which is certainly an accomplishment in and of itself.  And seriously, Kate, 2 seconds?  Definitely not worth hemming and hawing about.

But I keep beating myself up over it because I could have run better.  I took a walk break right near the end.  I didn't want to stop, but my brain seemed to have no control over my legs - or my bladder, for that matter.  Holy urinary incontinence, batman!  I've never battled with my bladder so much on a run.  I don't feel like I drank an excessive amount before the race, but something was surely different.

Bladder aside, I know I should hold my head up and be proud of what I accomplished.  I crossed the finish line to the cheering of my sweet kids, and then I got to cross it a second time with my son when he finished the 1-mile kids race.

I need to look at it through my children's eyes.  The whole time I ran with Mr. D, he kept shouting that we were going to win and that "the finish line is so close!  We can do it, Mommy!"  The look of joy on his face when he crossed the line was priceless.  And J-Bug, who proclaimed that her 2.5-year-old legs were not long enough to run that far, ran as much as she could and said she was "doing it just like Mommy!"

They were proud of me, and I should be, too.

Finishing out the fun run with Mr. D, age 4.

Why I Run: To Set an Example

I run to set an example for my kids.  I want them to see running as not only an activity that improves my health, but as one of the ways I take care of myself.  I brush my teeth, I visit my OB annually, I run; in all of these ways, I take care of me.

My kids watch me as I spend most of my day taking care of others: fixing meals, patching up skinned knees, settling arguments, folding laundry.  But when I put on my running shoes, they know that I'm heading out for some personal time.  When I come back, I'm hot and sweaty, but I'm also relaxed and refreshed.

I want my kids to know that taking care of themselves is just as important as taking care of others.  Not in a narcissistic way, but if we do not care for ourselves, what could we possibly offer to anyone else?  A broken foundation can do little to support its surrounding structure.  Since I feel like the foundation for my family, I know that I need to care for myself, and I want my kids to learn this lesson, too.

Running is the mortar that helps hold the bricks of my foundation in place.

Though they are only 2- and 4-years-old, I think running is starting to infiltrate their lives.  They point out passing runners when we are in the car, and they hold races in our backyard all the time.  They joined me as we cheered for my husband at his first 5k earlier this summer, cheering not only for their dad but also for all the other runners who passed our corner.

Even if running does not become their lifelong habit, I hope they find something to do that is just for them.  Perhaps it will be music, woodworking, poetry, or cycling.  I don't care what it is.  I just hope that they find it and cherish it as much as I do running.