Yesterday was our last long run before marathon day. We knew our Saturday schedule was going to be crazy with kids going in different directions, so we had to get creative to carve out the time to get in such a long run. The plan was to get up early and start running by 6 am and run close to David’s work. Since it was cold we’d run the first 11 miles outside and finish the last 11 in the gym on the treadmills. At the halfway point Rebekah (our oldest) would bring the kids to the gym where David’s work was sponsoring a health and fitness expo for kids. When they arrived at the gym David would take Rebekah to the airport for a 12 pm flight while I started the treadmill part of our run. He would then return and jump on a treadmill. While we did the treadmills the older kids would help with the younger ones at the the health and fitness expo. We’d be running in the workout room right next to the gym they’d be in. We’d be right next door. It was a perfect, well thought out plan. What could possibly go wrong?
It started the night before when the baby was up 25 times and the 2 year old wanted to “nuggle” which really means he wanted to climb in bed with us and proceed to hog 75% of the bed. Needless to say when the alarm went off at 5:30 I felt like I’d only slept about 5 minutes.
At 6:30 David finally drug me out of bed and reminded me that we had to finish our run by early afternoon because we had plans with friends later that evening. I wanted to hit him, but since I’d asked him to drag me out of bed I decided that was uncalled for. We drove to his work and finally hit the pavement at 7:30 am. I thought it was supposed to be warmer, and I wasn’t prepared for the cold. At about 7:33 I started complaining about how cold it was. At 7:38 I told David I couldn’t feel my fingers. By 7:41 I couldn’t feel my legs. Why exactly were we doing this? Whose bright idea was this? We finally fell into a decent pace and struck up a conversation which always helps distract us when we’re having a tough run. Finally, at about the 6 mile point, I was done with the cold. I asked if we could head to the gym and finish the last 16 on the treadmills. I hate treadmill running, but at least I wouldn’t freeze. And I could catch up on some HGTV.
We started running and got a few miles in. As planned, Rebekah showed up around 10 am with the kids. The older boys took the younger kids to the health and fitness class which started at 10 am. David left to make the quick trip to drop Rebekah off at the airport, and I kept going on the treadmill enjoying an episode of Property Brothers. Until Ryan (our 15 year old) came in with Joel (the 2 year old) and asked where the diapers and wipes were. Yep, it was a poopy diaper. And that’s when I remembered I’d forgotten to replace the diapers and wipes that I took out of the diaper bag the other day. I won’t even tell you how many times I’ve done that over the years. You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson by now. I slowed the treadmill down so I could make a quick call to ask David to pick some up on his way back from the airport. He arrived around 11 am and took care of the dirty diaper. I was still moving along (slowly) on the treadmill. David tried to get back on his treadmill to get the rest of his miles in. But by that time the three youngest kids were getting bored and they kept coming in to see what we were doing. Remember, we were in a room right next to the gym they were in. That was supposed to be a good thing.
David finally realized that any attempt to finish his miles was futile. I offered to cut my run short so he could get more miles in. But he knows I struggle with running much more than he does, and I needed to get those miles in. He told me to keep going. When I had about 9 miles to go, he came in to check on me. I told him I couldn’t finish. He told me to keep going. Over the next few miles I tried to quit at least 17 times. He wouldn’t let me. With five miles to go I asked him if he’d get on and finish it for me. He laughed and reminded me that on race day he couldn’t finish the last five for me. I had to press on.
With about three miles to go, the younger boys came in to watch me. They were fascinated with the treadmill and wanted to figure out how it works. They laid down and watched for quite some time. Ben kept saying, “Run faster, mommy. Run faster.” I told him I was running as fast as I could.
The little boys were fascinated by the treadmill. Don’t worry. Daddy was standing right by them to make sure they didn’t touch the treadmill and teaching them about how dangerous treadmills can be.
Ipushed through that last few miles with the encouragement of David and our kids. I kept asking myself why I do this. Is it really worth all the effort? My legs felt like they were going to fall off. I’d just spent half our Saturday running when I could have been doing a million other things.
And then, as I gathered up our stuff, I looked at the faces of all our precious little ones. And I knew why I did this. I knew why I’d spent half the day running. It’s not really about running. It’s about teaching our kids. It’s about the lesson I’d just given them in perseverance and determination. They watched me. They knew how much I wanted to quit. But they cheered me on and helped me finish. I can’t wait to see that finish line at the end of 26.2 in a few weeks. There’s nothing like that feeling of crossing the finish line. Our two older boys will know that feeling when they finish their first half marathon that day. I hope all our kids will experience it some day. I hope they’ll all set a goal, pour themselves into it, and then taste the sweet taste of victory when they cross the finish line. I hope my struggle yesterday to finish that run will plant a little seed in each of them. I hope they learned that their dreams are worth pursuing even if it takes more perseverance and determination than they realized they had. I hope they’ll dig deep and press on even when they want to quit. And just like they cheered me on yesterday, I’ll be there cheering them on every step of the way.