I’m a new stay at home mom (SAHM). When my husband and I found out we were expecting #2, we knew that I’d be taking a leave of absence from my job as an English teacher. There was no way I could work and go home to my kids having stacks upon stacks of essays to grade.
I wasn’t sure what to expect about this SAHM business. I knew that I was a little (a lot) apprehensive about the whole thing because I’ve never not worked. I’ve worked for as long as I can remember, sometimes 2 and even 3 jobs at a time. I get bored; I need to be kept busy. But, I knew what the real reason was for my apprehension. My fears came from knowing this was going to be the toughest job of all.
So far it hasn’t disappointed. Staying home with 2 under 2 is. hard. work. There are days that I would rather go back to 100+ teenagers and stacks of essays than stay home with a 1 ½ year old and a 2 month old that doesn’t’ yet sleep through the night. It is non-stop running around making sure that they stay in one piece and that I stay in one piece. There are a lot of tears and a lot of crying. There are feelings of inadequacy, of frustration, of sadness. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my children and I’m very blessed to have the opportunity to stay home with them, but, there are days that I’d like to put make-up on and look like a normal person. Sometimes I miss talking to an adult. I’d like to go out in public without fear of public scrutiny because of my kids’ shrieking.
My outlet is running. With a husband that works 12 hours days—he leaves me at 6 and comes home at 6—it doesn’t leave me much time to run. My daughter, the oldest, goes to bed at 8 so we have to squeeze dinner, bath time, and bedtime routines in those two hours. Some days, most days, I have a mental countdown to the time when I leave to go to my gym. All I think about is that time-to-go number on the clock.
Yes, after my long day of tantrums, screams, and food fights, I go running.
My friends think I’m crazy. How the heck do you have the energy to go work out?! I’d go straight to bed! But in all honesty, running makes me feel better. Running gives me the energy to wake up the next day and do it all over again… rejuvenated. It’s like I sweat away the negative energy I built up from the long day and I wake up with a positive attitude ready to tackle what comes. My whole day is spent trying to entertain and keep my kids happy. Gym time is my happy time and I can’t think of a better way to end the day.
I ran into a high school buddy a few weekends ago; we used to run cross country together. I asked her if she still ran and she told me that she didn’t run as much as she used to. She said it was the friendships in the team that motivated her the most and without that she didn’t feel compelled to continue running as much. She said she didn’t have a lot of running friends anymore.
I totally understood what she meant. There is something special about friends who run. They understand you better than your regular, non-running friends. No one can really get the dedication it takes than someone who experiences it as well. Try complaining to your non-running friend that your toes will never be the same. A running pal would commiserate (with immense pride) that their toes also require socks and shoes at all times. The non-runner would simply say to stop running. Stop running?
Try telling your non-running friend that you’re tired from having run 6 miles at 5 in the morning. They’d tell you to hit the snooze button. Your running friend will agree that their 5 miler at the crack of dawn was tough too.
Try telling your non-running friend about that race that brought you to tears when you crossed the finish line. That race you had trained months for, had many a sleepless night thinking about the course, dreamt about. They’ll smile and look at you in awe but they don’t truly know. Your running friend does.
I have quite a few friends who love running as much as I do. Some I’ve been friends with for many years and some that are new and new to running. This year I’ve “met” quite a few people online who are passionate about running. Even though I’ve never ran with them, their stories are still the same. They get it. They understand. I can tell them that at a recent race I shaved off 13 seconds of my previous PR and they’ll be as excited about it as I am. I can tell them that at mile 8 of my half marathon I was hitting a wall and they’ll understand the struggle it is to get over that wall. If I injure an ankle and have to take a break from running, they know how miserable I am and not from the pain.
The running community is large but what unites us is this understanding. I’m sure that when you’ve ran outside and come across another runner in your path you’ve exchanged a smile. That smile that says, “I get it.”
One of the things I feel makes running unique is that there is no “season” when you run. Other sports such as football, baseball, and even my other love, basketball, have an end. Running is different in that you can run anytime of the year, anytime of the day. Living in Arizona though, running in between the months of May and September means you’re regulated to certain hours. Unless I wake up at 4 a.m (which I’ve done pre-kids), I’m left running in 100+ degree heat.
Then October comes and I feel like my running season has officially begun. Like all the sweat (literally) and hard work has led me to these next few months. I run most of my races between the months of October and April so when I see the bright red circle on October 1st, I know that game time has finally arrived.