Goals, Interrupted (Why I ran a half marathon in my basement)

Goals are something that everyone seems to be talking about these days. Dream big, set your goals, and go after them. I wholeheartedly agree. Goals are valuable and important.

It’s one of the things that I love most about running. It’s a chance to set a goal and go after them with fervor. Races can be meaningful goals worth accomplishing, they give you something to work for with purpose, and finish lines are powerful things. I sign up for races because I enjoy the race as well as the training, and the power of moving towards a goal. It keeps me focused and allows me, almost gives me permission, to make my health a priority. I make the time to run-which is something that I brings me great joy and calm. It gives me energy to love on my life more.

The sense of accomplishment from racing is not like much else in life. So much of what we do each day doesn’t have such a clear ending. Most of what we do each day keeps going, rolling one thing to the next. Maybe that’s what is so invigorating about racing- a finish line. Finish lines are celebrated and that is powerful. My son is in that golden age of just two and pure enthusiasm. If there’s an ending to a song, a movie, or, even last weekend’s wedding, he will stop what he’s doing, put both hands together and clap wholeheartedly. It is precious and inspirational to watch the pause and the celebration.

But what happens when life’s variables come in, change your plans, and your plans are disturbed?

No matter what your life circumstances, this can be true. For all of us, sickness, illness, injury, and obligations can come at any and trump the cards that you were about to play. When you are a parent, this is especially true, because this can happen for you AND with each human life for which you are responsible. Parenthood means that at the end of the day -or the middle of the night, or before the first crack of dawn- the buck stops with you. You sit down to write that thing or read that book or do the yoga and someone wakes up coughing and crying. You have a meeting scheduled but something happened and now you have to change course and go pick up your kids. This is such an important part of the whole equation because it happens all the time.

When plans change because of one of these ordinary life circumstances, and you have to trade in your goal-getter work belt for your caretaker cause, it can sometimes feel like, well, not to sound overly dramatic, but it can feel like your dreams are dying on the vine. (If you’ve been there, you know what I mean!)

But this doesn’t have to be the reality. It may not always feel like it, but you can still make progress. You get to define your goals, change them, and adjust them, right there in the middle of your reality. Your expectations for what your goals may actually look like, however, also may need to change.

On Sunday, while my beautiful blessed children slept upstairs, I ran a half marathon. In my basement, alone. I kissed my husband goodbye while it was still terrifically dark out. With that, I also kissed a goal goodbye and I did it willingly. Mostly.

I had planned on running a half marathon that day. But two running events were happening on the same day and my husband and I were signed up for them both, not realizing the overlap. His was a team event, while mine was solo. We don’t have a lot of babysitters and 6:00 am was much too early to require anyone, family member or otherwise, to be here. Then add in a fever the last few days for one kid, and the possibility of it being shared with the second at any moment, and it was not the best circumstances for trying to go anyway. So it made sense that he would go and I would stay. You can’t let down a team, am I right? And so I resigned myself to sitting this one out.

Sometimes you move mountains, sometimes you take the detour. So here I am, not letting OUR team down.

I wanted to run a half marathon this spring because I love the distance and the satisfaction of it, and it makes me a little sad to miss the race experience. I get butterflies in my chest just thinking about the pain of pushing myself, followed by the thrill of finishing. I will miss that finish line today.

Being a mom you put a lot of things on the back burner. But you don’t have to be one of them, nor should your dreams and goals. They just may look different or they may need to be rescheduled. Motherhood, when done well (and by well I mean it’s healthy for kids AND mom) is a grand amount of reshuffling, re-prioritizing, and executing what’s most important. It does not, however, mean leaving yourself off of that list.

So when life happened and plans needed to change, and I couldn’t get to the race, I had to stop what could have been a downward spiral of disappointment and delayed joy. (It may sound dramatic, but it’s not. You’ve been there. We’ve all been there. Changed plans and disappointments are very real part of life.) I had ask myself what did I really want when I decided to run the half marathon? Did I want the medal, the crowds, the Personal Best time?
I didn’t sign up to run a half marathon today because of the crowds or the tshirt or the medal at the finish line. Those things are nice, but they’re just bonuses. This one, I just really wanted to run, to go and run 13.1 uninterrupted miles. I love running longer distances and though parenthood has changed how often I do it, it hasn’t changed how much I love it.

I had to ask myself WHAT I wanted most, and HOW I could make that happen. Maybe I could catch another half in a few weeks and try again. But what about TODAY. What could I decided to do today that would move me toward my goal.

This half marathon wasn’t my “A” race or a dramatic goal, but it was a goal (one that was real enough to have the race fee behind it). So I had to reevaluate and move along. As I realized what I really wanted, to run, I realized that I could still do it.

See, I’ve got this thing called a treadmill in my basement and kids who blessedly sleep until at least 8am most days. All I needed to do was get up and run 13.1 miles.

I don’t share this for congratulations or admiration of any kind. Logging ten or more miles on the treadmill happens often enough for me that it wasn’t a big deal. I share this because I know that I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t be where they might have wanted to be on a Sunday. I wasn’t the only one alone in the basement, logging the miles and sweating it out toward a goal, either literally or figuratively.

Honest confession time. I used to think that people sometimes got a little soft when they became parents. You don’t see them at races as much. When you talk to them about their training, “the kids” always comes up as a reason for things dialing back.

But that’s not the case at all. I’ve realized something about those parents. They’re tougher than ever before. If you happened to see them at a race, whether they’re slower or faster, I can bet you that they’re tougher and stronger than ever. Their priorities have changed and parenting has changed them but it’s most likely for the better, no matter what the race results. For every time you see them tow the start line, there were so many others that they didn’t because they were nursing babies, wiping fevered brows, or sweating by themselves in the basement, for no one to see and for no medal, except maybe the mental high five they give themselves, knowing they’ve given it their best shot.

Even though the race wan’t possible for me this time, I was able to hit my goal. Though no one was there to witness it, that didn’t matter. I did what I set out to do, even if it looked a lot different. Sure, I missed the thrill of the race, indeed. But I’m not missing the thing that I really need- the movement, the miles. I wanted to be sweaty and work hard and later in the day to feel tired in my body and happy in my mind as I spent time playing and laughing with my kids. I wanted to run a half marathon with my legs and my heart and enjoy the accomplishment.

Well, mission accomplished. It wasn’t as speedy as races are or as shiny with the medals and crowds and everything, but it was just as gritty. And just as successful.

Plans are not what they used to be. There are too many variables to get caught up in one day or one experience anymore. The only race I can ever run is my own, and this is what it looks like today. Me, in my basement, with my kids sleeping upstairs. My finish line may look different – feety pajamas and sleep eyed children attempting to hug my sweaty body, but it is pretty sweet.

So this one’s for all the moms getting sweaty and solo before the kids wake up, the dad’s with the jogging strollers, the parents at the starting line of the race, and those who couldn’t be there this time. If no one told you yet today, good job. Good job for trying, for adjusting, for caring about both your health and your kids. Good job for not quitting on either, and for understanding what a delicate balance of needs that it is. I hope that you don’t give up and don’t get discouraged. When plans change or goals get tangled up in the messy parts of life, don’t worry. Readjust and redirect, but don’t give up on the important stuff. Don’t worry either about it not looking like you thought it would. Just do whatever it is that you can today to make it towards your goal, with thoughtfulness. Give yourself some credit; run your own race. And enjoy some of the perks that are right there before you. If I’m lucky enough, maybe my two year old son will even clap vigorously for me.