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Today We Run

Green-Mountain-Trail

The sky is overcast. That seems to be the afternoon norm these days. Big Girl and Baby Girl are fighting over a blow up bat decorated in superheroes. Or with the bat. I can’t be sure. Probably both.

Yesterday, I happened to notice that the bottom corner of our shower curtain is covered in mold. Perhaps I would’ve noticed it sooner if I ever showered. I should probably wash it. Which reminds me. I’m down to my last pair of clean underwear.

My husband just informed me that Baby Girl threw up. Wonderful. And shocking because robots don’t throw up. That would actually make sense if you had heard her chanting, “I am a robot,” all weekend ad nauseam.

I feel a little sick to my stomach too. Not because I’m sick. I hope. But because I ate a little too much pizza and ice cream this afternoon. All I really want to do right now is take a nap and divert all my energy to my digestive tract.

But I need to go for a run.

This is where progress is made. This is the meaning of training. Runners don’t become runners by accident. We don’t just happen to get faster or run farther. We get there through one seemingly small decision after another. Not to take a nap. Not to do the laundry. Today we run.

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I’m Grumpy! And Don’t Try to Stop Me.

 

Grumpy-Big-Girl

I’ve been feeling stressed, completely maxed out, burnt out and grumpy. Especially grumpy. I’ve been extra impatient with the girls all week and especially with Big Girl who, never a model pottier, seems to have forgotten how to use the toilet all together. She wets her pants at least once a day. At age 5!

We’ve had several serious talks about it this week, during which I have expressed my concern that all the kids will make fun of her when she starts kindergarten in the fall. I felt like I really got through to her. She said she was worried. And then she peed her pants 20 minutes later.

Yesterday morning the doorbell rang and she ran to answer it, naked from the waist down. (Don’t worry. It was only Grandma.) Because I figure it’s time to redo potty training. And, also, I just can’t deal with all that laundry.

My husband “helped” with the laundry last weekend. He put the clothes in the machines and pushed the buttons, but he didn’t actually put anything away. Thursday morning I could only find one pair of pants for Big Girl in the volcano of clean laundry that erupted and coated the entirety of our bedroom floor.

I figured I’d better throw a load in the wash so we’d have at least 10 pairs on hand for the weekend, but was deterred by a load of my own clothes sitting the machine. Remnants of my husband’s helping hand, a week old, damp and smelling like mold.

He forgot to put them in the dryer. It’s an honest mistake. I can’t blame him. But this week has felt like one unexpected crisis after another.

First there was a miscommunication with my husband that led to a frantic search for last minute childcare. Then the science museum decided summer camp immunization cards were due 2 weeks earlier than originally advertised and added some extra requirements to go with it. Then there was a technical glitch on my website that I didn’t anticipate and sucked up all of Thursday morning. Then there was an issue transferring money from an IRA in my Dad’s name into my Mom’s name that I had to suddenly deal with yesterday morning. Because understanding financial transactions are just not one of my Mom’s talents, and the law office we’re paying to manage this stuff doesn’t appear able to manage it either.

Did you actually read that last paragraph? I don’t blame you if you skimmed over it. It’s not an enjoyable read. Nor was it enjoyable to live.

There was a lot of discussion Wednesday evening at Yoga Teacher Training on the topic of non-attachment. This idea that we let go of expectations and let any unexpected turn of events just sort of roll off our backs.

Well, I’m clearly no good at this. All of this week’s unexpected work made my grumpy! I’m also feeling entitled, like I deserve to be grumpy. I don’t want anyone telling me that I should let go of these unpleasant feelings. I will eventually get over it. But it will be on my own timeline, thank you very much.

I went for a 6 mile run Thursday night. I felt more calm, more patient, more content and at ease with life during the few hours after that run than I did the whole rest of the week. Running makes me feel better. But listen. I’m not going to tell you that this is how you will feel or should feel after a run. You just do your thing and figure out what works for you on your own timeline.