My Other Lover

It's my anniversary. Not my wedding anniversary, no. This is the one year anniversary of the affair with my other lover. One year ago today, my downward spiral into absolute addiction began when I ran my first road race. Last year at this time I was feeling like pretty hot stuff for running 6.2 miles... certainly nothing to be ashamed of. But this year, I began my anniversary race AFTER running nine miles. And because of that preceeding sentence, I will no longer refer to this morning's event as a "race." Although, it technically was called Race 4 the Cure (and for a SUPER cause) today I liked to think of it as Just Keep Moving 4 the Cure. Obviously, I'm crazy, but more importantly, I'm marathon training. And over the course of my fifteen or so miles today, I had plenty of time to ponder (and justify) my relatively new affair. After all, marathon training is not for the faint of heart, or the sane for that matter. It's a HUGE committment. It's also a huge committment for my husband who spends his Saturday mornings slaving over a hot stove making scrambled eggs, baking muffins, and wiping two (always moving) little mouths. Yes, a supportive husband is a wonderful thing and luckily mine enables my addiction.

My other enabler? The IronMommies. You learn a lot about people on a three hour plus run. I've been running with these girls for over a year now and our friendships have just gotten stronger and we enjoy each other's company that much more. We've found an interesting trend in our group though. We have ladies of all skill levels and running goals. There are only about eight of us though who are marathon training. Many of the girls think we are crazy. Based on the common denominator, the crazy factor comes from the fact that pretty much all of the eight of us have more than one child. Sure, there could be several reasons why parents of (currently) only children don't marathon train, but I've got my own theory based on my reasons for marathon training. As a Mom of two demanding, highly energetic, and demanding little ones, training forces me to carve much needed time out for myself. It forces me to stay in tune with my body and be incredibly conscious of what I put into my body. If I don't eat the right foods during the week, or if I eat the wrong foods, my Saturday morning will NOT be fun. And if I end up having one of those insanely busy, hectic weeks, I can take comfort in knowing that I will have several hours on Saturday to complete a thought, even if it's the first one I've completed all week. I'll also have several hours to just worry about myself... to think about what I need and how I feel and what I want out of life. It's kind of like a mental vacation before being thrown back into the realities of life. I'm sure I've made this sound like I'm much deeper in thought then I really usually am, so let me provide some better insight. A typical long run for me right now usually goes like this:

First 3 Miles - "Did I seriously roll out of bed at 3:45am to do this??? I must be nuts to think I'm ever going to run 26.2 miles."

Mile 4 - (This is where my running buzz kicks in) "I love running. I love running in Florida where I can run by the water and there are no hills and I can see pelicans when it's not so stinkin' dark out! Ew, watchout for the roadkill."

Miles 5-7 - "Which marathon am I going to sign up for next? I'll be all marathon trained up come January so I may as well sign up for Gasparilla in March. Maybe I could try to get into the Marine Corp Marathon next year? Gotta figure out where I'm going to put my 26.2 tattoo (sorry Mom and Dad). Woohoo! This is SOOOO much fun!! I love running!"

Miles 7-10 - "How on earth am I going to run another 16.2 miles? This is absolutely impossible. Forget crying when I cross the finishline, I'm going to cry right now."

Miles 10-13 - "I think I might be dying. Keep running. I wonder if drinking my whole bottle of gel would make me sick? Keep running." (This is usually where I begin fantasizing about water... in all forms... bottled water, swimming pools, showers, ice...)

Miles 13-13.5 - "Ohhh, that gel really helped me out. I'll have no problems from here on out."

Miles 13.5-14.75 - "Boy, that gel sure didn't stick with me very long. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die before I get to 15 miles. I can't feel my toes anymore. Oh goodie, here comes the sunrise. If I don't get done with this before the sun comes completely out I will no doubt die of heat exhaustion. Why do I live in Florida??" And then I always think about the scene from National Lampoon's Vacation where Chevy Chase is lost in the desert. And I feel bad for him because I can SO relate.

Miles 14.75-15 - "Woohoo! I'm almost there. I think I could run another two miles if I really had to. Don't want to push myself though and end up injured. I'd better stop at 15. Now I've got my license to pig out at dinner tonight!! I LOVE running. Now, back to that tattoo."

And then me and my wild and crazy friends hobble back to our cars like a group of ninety year olds and talk big about how we're going to do wild and crazy things with our day like bathe in BioFreeze, nap, and take Epsom salt baths. You know, we like to live on the edge.

I know it looks like I hate all but about three miles of the run. It's the feeling that I have after a run like this that keeps me addicted. There is no greater feeling of accomplishment then to know I've already run 15 miles while most of the world is still laying in bed. It's like one big endorphin dump that lasts all weekend long for me and the longer I run and the further I run, the better I seem to feel. Running is definitely my drug of choice and I spend more time then I should thinking about getting my next "fix." It hurts to walk right now, but I'm already looking forward to next Saturday morning.