Me time becomes marathon time.

Our schedule is busy to say the least.  Like busy to the point where my friends and I exchange emails with lines such as "would LOVE to see you guys...how do the next two months look?"  There have been some great studies done recently on how all this busyness will affect us in the long term and why we feel the need to stay so busy but that's another post.  And, as apparently there are still only so many hours in a day, I constantly feel the pressure to choose oh so very wisely what we fill those time slots with.  There are of course the mandatory items.  Sleep (hopefully), work and school, eating well, travel time, attacking the never ending to-do list, and then, if there's anything left, maybe a few hours for fun and doing whatever we choose.  This is the time slot that I find the most stressful, ironically.  Maybe it's because all the other things aren't really an option.  But this time, the "me" time, is all you get a say in so it better be good and it better make you happy.  Do I nap, workout, see friends, sit and read, just sit, DIY, walk in the woods?  The possibilities are endless and therein lies the problem.

My alone time was pretty unstructured for a while which was great.  It varied from week to week, and I found myself feeling like it was the reset button I needed.  Until I decided to take on another marathon, my 9th overall (I think) and my first since the kiddos were born.  Training for anything with significant distance takes two major things:  time and energy.  And, you got it, those are the two things a working mom of toddlers has very little of.  But I was looking forward to a few things.  Hours on winding country roads, seeing the seasons change, feeling my body become more efficient as the mileage increases, checking off training weeks and looking towards a final date.  It brought back a lot of memories.  Unfortunately, things have changed a bit.  Which seems like the understatement of the decade.  And all of a sudden, a 22 mile training run isn't something you think about and plan for weeks, even months, in advance.  It's something that you remember you're doing the night before, throw together a route, check the weather - crap, it's supposed to ice?  where are those winter gloves? - and hope your overly supportive hubby can pitch in and pick up the kids when you inevitably don't hit your goal pace and are literally running too late to do it yourself.  (Sorry again, babe!)  It's something that you hope you have the time to enjoy along the way because Lord knows, when you get home, stretching is probably out, showering might happen IF they nap, and you'll be eating goldfish by the handful as a recovery meal while you simultaneously referee between the kids and catch up on work emails.

Fast forward, because time does little else these days, to the day of the race.  I made the decision to leave the family at home.  Judge it either way but this one was for me.  I had fought for training time, woken up early for speed work, managed to work jobs, keep a household somewhat running, and, to my knowledge, not kill anyone during the process.  Whatever happened, I was more proud of toeing that start line and excited about crossing that finish line than I think I ever have been before.  There will be plenty of races for the kids to see mommy run in, plenty of time to show them the healthy lifestyle that I hope more than anything they will take on themselves.  This one was mine.  And isn't that an important lesson in itself?  To show your children that it's ok to make time for yourself, to have hobbies and passions that you don't have to share/post/tweet to feel proud of?  What the hell do I know, but I would love to believe that by making, not finding, my own alone time and choosing well how to spend that time, I'll inspire them to set their own goals, athletic or not, and look inward for their own happiness.

In the beginning, I started this training program to see if the marathon distance was something I could see myself doing consistently again at this point.  Would it be attainable with our crazy busy lives, but, more importantly, would it be FUN?  I think hindsight is always a bit rosy but I can say that yes, there's something about 26.2 that I'm not done with.  I'll get my more relaxed alone time back soon.  For now, it will come and go with the race seasons, life commitments, and family milestones.