The Offseason

Runners run for the love of running. It is a need that must be met. I feel this way which is why I can call myself a runner. The rub is that once I skip a few days of running, it's really easy to let running slide. It is a slippery slope. In the past three weeks I have run no more than 12 miles a week. That's two runs a week. I am not feeling much like a runner.
Being the awesome mom that I am, I am gloing to blame the kids. Raising kids and being a runner means that not only do you have to be a routine, but your kids do too. We are a busy family so I must schedule my runs or they won't happen. I've learned that if I don't run by 10AM, it's just not gonna happen. Family life is too hectic. Summer running is usually sporadic with all the trips and visitors, but once school is in session we are all forced into a routine. The regularity of waking early every morning, eating and getting dressed by 8 AM allows me the luxury of running at least four days a week. Ideally, I take my kids to the child watch at the Y Tuesday-Thursday and run either on the treadmill or on the trails near the Y. Then I run longer on the weekend when my mom can hang with the kids. Mr. Hilarious works an ungoldy amount of hours which include most nights and Saturdays. I could get up and run at 6AM before Mr. Hilarious leaves, but then I would have to go to bed at 9PM. When would I see Mr. Hilarious if I did that? It's out of sheer love of my husband that I don't wake up in the cold, pitch dark to run every morning. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
This amounts to three days at the child watch for my two youngest kids. I feel no guilt being a stay at home mom who uses day care an average of 3 hours a week. However, my kids rebel against it every chance they get. According to them, sitting in a room with a bunch of other kids, lots of toys, a TV, a jungle gym, and a computer for one hour is pure hell.
Now that school has started and my blister has healed, I am ready to start running 4 days a week. This morning I dress in my running clothes, drop off my daughter and head to the Y. My two year old starts crying when he recognizes the street to the Y, and my older son is crying by the time we get out of the car. I am bribing everything from gum to a trip to the zoo if they will just let me run for an hour. I tell them I am staying healthy so I don't have a heart attack. I tell them I am staying sane so I don't beat them. But they cry on and on. I pry them from my legs in the child watch room and the workers look at me with both sympathy for having to deal with them and hate for leaving two crying boys for them to deal.
My heart was pounding as I walked to the treadmill. I can't believe the nerve of those selfish kids! I just want one hour! If I wasn't so mad, I would've cried. It took one mile before I forgot about them. I listened to my upbeat tunes and felt strong as I ran five miles at 9:30 pace. I was so relaxed. I felt like a gazelle as I skipped back into the child watch. I beamed with love at my two boys building a block castle together. I was going to love on them all day. They looked and me and burst into tears, "I don't want to leave!" they wailed.