I am a runner. But I do lots of other things. As most of you know, I am also a mother. My first priority is always my family, and specifically my children. I am an aunt to five nieces and nephews (and a fun one, I like to think). I am an avid music fan, a reader, a writer, a decent skier, an average tennis player and someone who's willing to try almost anything if it involves action and being outside. I am NOT a good cook, gardener, or artist, among other things. There is rarely any baking done in my house, much to my girls' dismay, and I can't keep a plant alive to save my life though I do try both once in a while. I hope, by doing all these things, I am setting a good example for my kids - showing them my willingness to try, to push myself in new and different ways, to step out of my comfort zone and, once in a while, to fail. Most of the things I do, or try to do, enable me to be the person that I am. But the running stands alone. I do it for me, yes. But I do it for my husband, my kids and my friends, too. This sounds strange, I know. Let me elaborate. I run to stay fit and healthy and because I enjoy the challenge, yada, yada (you already know all this). More importantly, I do it to clear my brain and keep my head in the game as a mom. Likewise, I do it because I can be a better wife and friend as I am more relaxed, able to listen and focus, and willing to help, once I've gotten it done. None of this makes sense to my girls at this point. When I cross the finish line at a marathon, my younger one always asks me if I won. And then she always gives me the furrowed eyebrow when I tell her, "no, but that's not why I did it." This always makes me smile when I walk away from a race, as I hope that eventually what I am doing will sink in - maybe not for a few years, but in time. Today I am leaving for Georgia to run a marathon with my good friend and running partner. The girls don't get it but they don't really care, either. "Ok mom. Have fun. See you Monday," Rosie said when I told her. I asked them to write me a note that I can take on the trip with me "for good luck". My 8 year old rolled her eyes. This is the note that my 6 year old gave me:
So, I guess I must be doing something right. Thanks, Grace.
Listen to this:
Tilly & the Wall - Pot Kettle Black from Team Love on Vimeo.