Marathoning Mama

Don’t be alarmed. This post isn’t about me. I only participate in marathons when there are life-altering questions and jewelry involved.

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When we were preparing to move to Brooklyn, we met a couple through friends of friends. They were smart, faithful, fun, and really made us feel welcome in our new borough. We quickly came to call them friends, and though we don’t see as much of each other as we’d like, they and their fabulous little girl hold a very special place in our hearts.

 

The wife/mother/wonder woman of the family, Mary, has run with a group called Team in Training for longer than we’ve known her. She started with the group in part to honor a family member. Last year (or two years ago now!), the connection grew deeper: both her mother and her best friend were diagnosed with the kinds of lymphoma Mary raises money to treat and beat. Thank God, they are both in remission now. Mary’s most recent marathon was run to honor and give thanks for them. Pretty incredible, right?

 

Beautiful Mary was kind enough to allow me to share part of the letter she sent to those who supported her during her training here on the blog. I don’t think you have to know Mary personally to see how full of love her heart is and how strong her mind and body are. Her reflections on motherhood are spot-on and downright inspiring.

 

If you’d like to donate to Team in Training, click here: http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/nyc12/maryenquist

 

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. . . Just two weeks before [the Philadelphia Marathon], Hurricane Sandy had rocked New York City, and rightly so, the NYC Marathon was cancelled and its resources donated to families in need.  The Philly Marathon opened last minute slots for New York runners and made for a great Plan B race. It was to be my third full marathon, but the experience felt brand new as my first as a mother – an endurance event all its own!

Last spring when I signed up for another season of Team in Training, I was excited and energized towards this goal, but also approached it with a fair bit of trepidation and self-doubt, unsure if I’d really find a way to balance it all.  I remember emailing my coaches early in the season, begging them to hold me accountable and giving them permission to kick me in the rear if I wasn’t getting my rear out on the road.  I also knew that this year, more than any other year, would be meaningful with both my mom and my best friend newly in remission from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.  I felt I had to do something to give back for the immense blessing of their effective treatments and reclaimed lives.

Five miles into the race I was feeling great.  I glanced down at my watch to see how I was doing on my time goal and was surprised to see a blank screen.  After fiddling with my watch unsuccessfully for a few steps, I realized that for the next 21+ miles I’d be flying blind and would have to run by feel.  In a way, being forced to throw my pre-calculated race plans out the window and move forward in faith was a fitting representation of a mindset I had grown accustomed to this season.

Becoming a mother changes everything.  Your priorities change, your body changes, and perhaps most surprising, your ability to be in control changes.  Sure, there were the logistical challenges of fitting in the training, but perhaps what was more daunting was how I would manage keeping up with an energetic toddler and the unanticipated hurdles that were out of my control.  In seasons past, I was disciplined and diligent in my training.  I’d head to bed early the night before a long run and would carve out my entire Saturday to recover.  Looking back on it, it was a pretty plush life.

This season was a little different.  As a working mom, I had to be a lot more creative in how and when I could fit in my training – like running home from work, rather than taking the subway.  I forced myself to develop the mental toughness to do most of my training alone and I made the commitment to myself to hire a babysitter after bedtime to be able to go out and do interval speed training and hill repeats with my running team once a week.  The runs still happened, but they needed to be much more flexible and coordinated around the needs of the family.  A full night’s sleep was a rarity, rather than a given.  Not wanting to miss an extra minute with Natalie, I raced home each Saturday morning, stretched in the shower, and continued running after the Little Miss the rest of the day.  My well-rested, former self could never have fathomed this being possible and probably would have bowed out in exhaustion, but motherhood changes you in another major way.  It makes you stronger.

The middle section of the marathon flew by in a blur.  Unsure of exactly how fast I was running, I tried to keep pace with familiar runners in the crowd.  I remember seeing someone named “Aaron” with their name on the back of their tee-shirt and a runner dressed up like a Spartan.  Feeling like you are part of something bigger than yourself is one of my favorite things about running a marathon.  In those miles, I found myself relying on my peers to set the pace.  Around mile 14, two fellow Team in Training runners from a New Jersey Chapter noticed my racing jersey and introduced themselves.  I honestly don’t remember their names and couldn’t pick them out of a crowd, but for their company at that point in time, I will be forever grateful.  Both, coincidentally, were mothers of young children and were incredibly encouraging of both my first marathon back and expressed deep empathy as they asked about my connection to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.  There is nothing quite like running for a cause you deeply believe in and sharing your story on the run. With emotions running high, fueled by my love of my mother and best friend, I pushed ahead alone towards the finish line.

Our coaches have a saying that “the first 10 miles, you run with your head” (i.e., being smart on your pace, nutrition, and hydration plans).   “The second 10 miles, you run with your legs” (i.e., this is when your training kicks in). “The last 10K (6.2 miles), you run with your heart.”  For me, the back 10K was a spiritual experience.  I felt like my body was “just running” and my heart and soul were raised to a higher place…a place of deep gratitude and a concrete understanding of what might have been had my mother or Allison not responded to treatment or not had cutting-edge treatments available to them.  My heart ached thinking about families that have endured that loss.  My thoughts also turned to my daughter and how it might feel to have a doctor tell me she had cancer.  Picturing her waiting for me at the finish line charged me ahead with all I had left.

I finished in tears…tears of joy, tears of thanksgiving, and tears of exhaustion (part physical, but also part emotional).  What an insane and truly blessed year and a half this has been!

I finished in 3 hours and 49 minutes, a personal best of nearly 40 minutes from my pre-pregnancy marathon time.  I couldn’t have done it without you…and neither could have Mom or Allison.

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Thank you, Mary, for sharing your story with us.

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Year of Faith: A New Year, A Year in Progress

New Year’s resolutions are notorious for not lasting longer than the month of January. That said, I have a couple of my own that I think are reasonable, among them, reading Anna Karenina and working through my yarn stash. Hmm, maybe “reasonable” isn’t the right word there.

 

In the meantime, though, remember that other big year that launched a few months back? The Catholic Church’s Year of Faith? I was somewhat surprised not to hear it mentioned in any homilies around New Year’s, but then I haven’t heard it mentioned in a church at all since October. There’s a big sign proclaiming it outside our church, but I suggest we make the conversation more active right here, right now.

 

This initiative, in my mind, is too important to let slip away like a resolution to eat healthier or lose weight (aside: who’s PUMPED about The Biggest Loser starting up again?). While the Year of Faith is aimed at Catholics, my hope is that anyone who’s aware of it takes a little extra time here and there to reflect about what faith means, no matter the denomination, if there’s one at work at all. There are too many reminders in the news that our society needs more charity, more grace, more courage, and more faith in each other and in ourselves. For me, that all brings me back to my Catholic faith—faith in God’s love and mercy.

 

This week a close friend began his studies at seminary. Though we don’t know yet whether his journey will indeed lead him to the priesthood, I am grateful for his example in taking a risk on what God’s asking of him. Embarking on this adventure during the Year of Faith, I think, gives it special meaning.
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It gets me to thinking, am I really open to what God has in store for me? Last year, the answer was sometimes yes, sometimes no. Motherhood has shown me that there are minor and major ups and downs when I trust in God’s will for me.

 

Most of these last three weeks, I’ve been occupied with the here-and-now needs of a newborn, but when that subsides, will I be ready and willing to let God lead the way? What will impede me, and how will I break through it?

 

The beginning of 2013 is more than the turn of a calendar page for me. It’s a new start after a challenging year. Though it’s a new chapter, I’m still telling the same story—one that I hope is grounded in faith.

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Can You Tell the Difference?

When Henry was first born, I didn’t think he looked like anyone in our family. The next day, I realized he looked almost exactly like Jacob at that age. I don’t think it will stay that way for too long. There are some differentiating characteristics, but for now, they’re rather subtle.

 

What do you think: Can you tell which is which?
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