Single Track

Trail running really puts me out of my comfort zone.  I don’t have a lot of experience with it and I have a high fear of falling.  When I run, I have a tendency to keep my feet really low, close to the pavement.  Trail running requires more lifting of the foot.  It’s something I have to think about constantly when I’m on the trails because it doesn’t come naturally. And I get distracted VERY easily.  So, I trip a lot.  Despite that, I was motivated to check out trails this weekend. 

My motivation comes from my new job at a nature center in Elm Creek Park Reserve.  I want to feel more closely connected to the park so I wanted to get out and explore some of the trails further away from the nature center.  With the help of another runner, I managed to convince my Minneapolis running club to check out Elm Creek, some 35 driving minutes northwest of our usual meeting spot.  The other runner put together a plan to run the entire course on a single track trail.  There were many loop options, so we had the option of running 3 miles or up to 11 miles without repeating any of the route.  For those of you who don’t know, single track pretty much means single file.  The course was actually a mountain bike course.  Lots of ups and downs and turns and variety.  No two steps were alike.  It’s as mentally challenging as it is physically. 

I found myself in a similar mindset to Monday night’s run . . . the one where I was concerned about running alone in the dark so I ran about as fast as I could to keep up with the group.  With single track, we all run in a line.  If I didn’t go fast enough, there would be a pile up.  Once again, I had to run faster than physically comfortable to be mentally comfortable in the group.  I tried to keep myself in the front half of our group of 15.  I didn’t want to feel like I was falling behind.  I was pushing hard and I could definitely feel it.   This might sound strange, but I’m not used to my legs being tired when I run.  On the trails, they’re stepping sideways, hopping over rocks and roots, ducking under branches, and Oh the hills!  Trail running is truly a different sport from road running. 

While I was running I kept having the frantic mindset of, “I can’t keep up!  I can’t keep up!  I’m going to fall!”  But at some point, I decided to conquer the mental game.  I changed my thinking to, “I can do this.  I AM doing this.  So what if I fall.”  On I trucked.  Turning right.  Turning left.  Ducking down.  Stepping over.    Swinging around tree trunks.  Over and over.  I eventually made it to the 8 mile turn around and felt a huge sense of relief.  What a workout!  I expected many of us would be heading back at this point, but it was only me and my friend Matt.  Things got a lot quieter as a pack of two.  We had a peaceful run back to the trailhead through the prairie and forest.  When I caught sight of the parking lot, I thought, “Already?”  Trail miles have the tendency to sneak by faster than you would realize.  At that moment, I wished I had pushed myself a little further outside of my comfort zone to finish the 11 mile loop.  It wasn’t until I stepped off of the trail that I realized I still had a lot more in me.  Those kinds of moments are both welcome and frustrating.  Welcome because I’m getting stronger.  That’s a glorious feeling in itself.  Frustrating because I missed out on a harder workout, especially because opportunities for me to run are unpredictable.  Now I know for next time.  I’ve got more in me than I think. 

I was grateful for the run.  Grateful to run with Coach Mitch again after his injury.  (I hadn’t seen him much lately.)  Grateful to be part of the pack again.  Grateful that the other runner had experience on these trails and had planned everything out.  Grateful to have Matt run with me back to the trailhead.  But mostly, grateful for pushing myself out of my comfort zone and gaining the confidence that comes whenever I do that.  

And I didn’t even fall.  

The Hardest Decisions

My parents came into town last week.  Their plan is to stay with us through Sunday and we are so grateful for the help.  It means we can do things like sleep through the 2 a.m. feeding while my mom takes care of it.  It means we don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn with Daughter because my dad is an early riser. 

When I realized the advantage of having extra adults around, I immediately thought of running.  In the last several weeks, my running has been sparse.  I’ve been trying to nail down my family’s work-daycare-commuting-bedtime routine before trying to fit running back into my life.  (I can’t help but think about how ridiculous it seems that we would have a routine.  We are soooooo far away from that.)  Unless there are extra adults in my household, running is rarely an option.   

I took a few minutes on Sunday to plan a week of workouts since we had the help this week:  Leave work a little early on Monday so I can run with the club; go to body pump Tuesday morning while Daughter is at preschool (didn’t have to bring the baby with me); enjoy Halloween on Wednesday with my family; run in the afternoon on Thursday; and then catch up with the club again on Saturday morning.  It seemed easy enough and completely realistic.

And then came Monday, a whirlwind day at work.  The kind of day that offers a 5 minute lunch and 5 minutes to pump.  I didn’t leave work as early as I was hoping and raced home as best as I could in rush hour traffic.  (The drive home is almost an hour.)  I really wanted to run and I was anxious to meet the club.  My motivation was high. 

Until I walked in the door and picked up my baby boy.  How could I turn around and leave him again when I’d been gone all day?  And for something as selfish as running.  I was immediately overwhelmed with emotions.  Sad about not spending the day with him.  Conflicted about being a working mom.  But most of all, frustrated that I can’t fit all the things I want into my life.  So damn frustrated. 

I went upstairs to pump, but while I was up there, I decided that it would be ridiculous to run.  My family needs me.  My baby will only be little for a short while.  Chris got home and I talked it through with him.  I told him I can’t win, but I should err on the side of my family.  I will be upset no matter what I choose.  I imagined the tears streaking down my face while I was out running because I wasn’t home with my family.  At the same time I imagined being crabby and miserable because I missed a run yet again. 

In the end, I decided to run, since I had planned on it.  As much as I didn’t want to, I was going to follow through with my plan.  In that moment, I hated myself for it.  It’s the age old dilemma of parents.  Where do you draw the line between doing what’s best for yourself vs. doing what’s best for your kids?  If you have an answer, I’d love to hear it. 

So off to running club I went.  I got there a few minutes late and ended up following some of my old pace group, a group I haven’t run with in ages because I’m a lot slower than them these days.  What’s not-so-fun about running club this time of year is that it’s dark.  I very soon realized that if I couldn’t keep up with them, I’d be running alone in the dark.  So I hauled ass.  I ran with Bruce for a while and listened to him talking with another runner.  I, however, was unable to speak.  I was sucking wind the whole time.  My entire warm-up was a crazy fast pick-up.  But I did it.  I stuck with the group.   When we got to the Tyrol hill loops, I took off ahead of the group while they were getting situated.  I figured they would be passing me very shortly, so my plan was to prolong that.  What ended up happening was unexpected.  I ended up running alone in the dark AHEAD of my group.  I can’t explain why they didn’t catch me.  I suspect they were all running extra slow for my benefit, but they denied this.  I ended up running all three loops alone and I loved it.  I was running.  I wasn’t getting passed.  I felt great.  Euphoric, even.  I can easily say it was my best run of the year because the improvement was tangible.   I’m running faster than I did a couple weeks ago.  It was awesome. 

I was still flying high on endorphins when I got home.  When I walked through the door, though, I fell all the way down from that high.  It was 7:30 and Baby was already in bed for the night.  In the entire day, I spent less than an hour with him.  My heart broke immediately.  How could I be so selfish?  How is this ever going to work?

I still don’t know how to make it work.  I’ll get my workouts in when I can here or there, but there will be no routine to speak of for a long while.  Not while sleep is so unpredictable for all of us.  I never even got to tell Chris about my awesome run or how I kept up with my old pace group.  When he reads it here, it’ll be the first time he hears about it.  Life is still pretty hectic for us.  We’re doing okay, but a lot of the time, I feel like we’re just barely getting by. 

And the one take-away thought I’m keeping with me from Monday’s experience:  Working moms can’t have it all.  We just can’t.  Something has to give at all times, whether it’s the quality of our work or the quality of time spent with our family.  And that doesn’t even include time for ourselves.  Time for running.  Time for having a date with our husbands.  Or even time to tell partners about our days.