Running Junkie

Let it be known that motherhood is not the end of a woman’s life; if you let it, it can be the beginning of a very special, very fulfilling chapter—and I don’t simply mean as a parent.

Every year of my motherhood, I have somehow taken on a new hobby. First, it was writing regularly on this blog. With that—because I got into reading other blogs—I branched out in what I was cooking and baking. That continued into writing a novel that largely hinges on a young woman’s love of cooking.

The next year, I learned to knit. In the wake of losing Ethan, I knit up a storm. Maybe next year I’ll take up math and figure out how many miles of yarn I used. Not today, though. Let’s leave it at a whole heck of a lot.

Now I’ve somehow gotten myself into running. I don’t understand it. Neither does anyone else who’s known me for more than five years. For most of my life, I really, really didn’t like running. I didn’t feel capable of doing it for any length of time, or with any success.

But if motherhood has taught me anything, it’s that there’s nothing I can’t do. And if I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it all the way. If I write, I’m going to write a novel. If I knit, it’s going to be a sweater (or three). If I run, it’s going to be . . . I don’t know yet. But I know I can’t get enough of it.

 
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Somehow, I’m running every other day, and even trying to beat my 5K time from one week to the next. I’m enjoying the challenge. Dare I say, I kind of feel like an adult.

There have been a couple of times in life when I’ve made a sudden life change of some sort and just had it stick. In high school, after years of drinking only apple if I was going to have juice, I decided I wanted orange. I could barely remember what it tasted like, but I’ve had it almost every day since. (And have had apple maybe twice since.)

It’s not a big deal, and it feels silly to write about it, but all this is to say that sometimes, it feels good to grow up a little bit. To make a change, stick to it, and see that you’re a more complex, more grounded, more whole person because of it.

Motherhood forces me to take steps like this in leaps and bounds. Sometimes, I’m not all that excited about what needs to get done. But, like running, it feels good once the task is accomplished. I know I don’t do any of the things I’ve taken up perfectly: I burn dinner sometimes; I rip out my knitting and start over; most people could walk faster than I “run.” But the point is, I do it. I’m not going to be number one in anything. And the better days—of parenting and of life—are the ones when I could care less.

Today I am grateful for my motherhood—for the person it’s making me become, for God’s grace leading me through the race.