I got in trouble from more than one person yesterday for not posting an update. What can I say? When you walk into a place-that-shall-not-be-discussed and they smack you upside the head with a day-full of work, you tend to focus on that first, rather optimistically thinking (as it turns out) that you can get to the blog writing in “just a minute.” HA! Turns out that minute didn’t come until right now. My bad.
I’m happy to report (however belatedly) that Mom II is doing just fine. Not only did she make it through the surgery, but she is already home, resting. Well, resting and ordering Papa Doug around. So she clearly wins that round of Who Can Get Back To Normal Fastest? I’m sure she’ll be up and back to normal-normal again very soon, because as I kept reassuring her before the surgery, she’s no mere mortal. And come to think of it, maybe I’m not the only one to “thank” for all of Gracie’s stubbornness.
Of course, because Papa Doug was busy tending Mom II, no one took the girls to church this weekend. Which was fine; it was even kind of nice the way
I we didn’t have to run around and rush to eat breakfast, negotiate outfits and get ready to go. Instead, I got to sleep in, enjoy my coffee at a leisurely pace, and then force the kids to get dressed so they could go running with me.
Yeah. That was a genius plan.
Look, my 10k is in two weeks. (Well, less than two weeks now, but it was two weeks from Sunday…er, Saturday…when all this was going down.) That clock is ticking very loudly, especially given that I’m just barely running half of the total mileage needed. Getting the flu and bronchitis set back the training by A WHOLE HEAPING GIANT AMOUNT, so I couldn’t exactly take Sunday morning off. Thus, the experiment. I would let the girls take their scooters and zip on down to the “park” with me. Our neighborhood park (which is really little more than a half mile trail around a duck pond) is usually deserted, smallish enough for me to never be very far away from the girls, and a flat, open expanse with good sight lines so I could always see them. This way I could keep up my own pace, the girls could scoot around at their own pace, and everyone would be happy. Right?
Problem #1: it was cold. Not too cold: maybe just 52°. I would have been just fine if I was, you know, actually running at any kind of consistent pace. But it was windy, a cold and gusty miserable sort of wind, and so the girls were done with that pretty quickly.
But that was okay, because the wind and the chilly temps weren’t a problem at first. I directed the girls down my usual path (i.e., the long way around) and tried to keep my eyes off my 17-minute-mile pace. Ugh. Turns out I can run faster than they can scoot. Le sigh. Gracie was actually keeping as far ahead as I would let her go. Bee, on the other hand, was lagging. I quickly solved that problem by circling back and around her so that she was behind and then ahead of me, behind and then ahead. Rather like sewing a very straight seam, actually.
When we finally got to the park, I had already run a mile (vs. the half if I’m not constantly straight-stitching my route), but I was just happy to cut loose and run. The girls had been briefed about staying together, staying on the circular path, and yelling like mad if anything went wrong. The park was as empty as it always is, so that wasn’t a worry. Off I went! …And in settled the worry. Was I making the right decision? What if someone stole them? How would I ever forgive myself?! Where was Bee? Oh there she is. I should have made her wear a bright color like Gracie: a half-mile loop is a lot bigger across than you think. Every time Bee sat down on a bench, she blended in and was really hard to see. I was constantly twisting around to get a visual, and then there was that one time I really couldn’t see her and started sprinting, only to pick her up about halfway around the loop. But I found out how quickly I can run and how long I can sustain it before I get a bit winded!
By that point, the girls started asking how many more loops I was going to do. They were hungry. They were cold. They were boooooored, Moooooommm. And I was really not feeling any kind of groove. I only got in a mile and a half, my legs weren’t tired, but I was kinda done, too. So I conceded.
Back up the hill we trekked, me pushing Bee’s scooter, and her barely able to lift her poor wee feet off the ground. Gracie, of course, was racing ahead again, rejuvenated apparently by my decision to call it quits. Oh well. Another lesson learned. Maybe in another year, we can try that running-together thing again.