Today, I am bummed.
Very bummed.
It is the most lovely fall day, just a touch overcast and the leaves are ON FIRE. It is the perfect day for a nice long run.
And, it's the day where, for many years (6 times, to be exact) I would be donning my cheesy Wonder Woman running gear and joining 30,000 or so running friends to take on the Marine Corps Marathon.
Where am I today? On my couch.
Not "oh gee, I just had a great run and now I deserve this rest" couch, but flat out "I feel like crud and I'm stuck here cause I AM SICK" couch.
And I am having a full on cranky-pants case of running FOMO.
Never run without the world's best cheerleader, K., who knows you bring a beer to the finish line
Nope, it's not COVID. (tested and tested and tested). It started as some daycare germs that morphed into the cough that won't quit. I slowed down my running, then thought I was getting better, so went back, even managing a long run of 6 miles Tuesday -- not my best speed, but besides some extra snot rockets, did not seem too bad.
But by Thursday, I was so tired that pushing a grocery cart with my toddler around ALDI left me so drained I literally crawled onto the floor and lay down while she enjoyed some extra Elmo time. Friday dawned even worse: just going the three blocks to storytime left me hanging over the jogging stroller, limp with a draggy tired exhaustion. I still don't know exactly what is going on -- checking in with a doctor again tomorrow -- but I do know, I am cranky.
Crankier still when I got all the county alerts about road closures for the MCM. This was my first marathon. For many years, it was my "home" one as well --while I tried a few other fulls (Chicago -- so fun; Baltimore -- best course snacks, but waaaaay hillier than I thought; Pittsburgh -- Iove you home city, but I KNEW you were hilly and I still don't even want to try the full again there; only survived thanks to some hipster Carnegie Mellon students who were handing out shots of something that was strong enough to dull the pain of crusing downhill ... oh, my knees! .. at Mile 24) I always came back to the MCM. Our old apartment was less than a mile from the start, so I could run much of the course -- still can, as I'm only about another mile up the road. It takes you through some beautiful D.C. scenes -- Rock Creek Park in October is a gem, my little Hoya heart always loves seeing Georgetown as you cross the Key Bridge, and despite a, well, questionable look on the map for a bit, the parts from about miles 15-20 through the mall are as iconic as you can get.
A gorgeous trek through my lovely city, but miles 17-20...ummm....
No, really: don't tell me that is not on PURPOSE Marines
I know that even if I wasn't fighting whatever this beast is, I wouldn't be running. As I've talked about before, I have to go slow and steady: getting back to 6 miles took me several months; I'm granting myself the better part of a year to get to 13.1. Being a working mum of a VERY active toddler means my schedule likely won't fit the four-hour long runs (and mutilple hour-long mid ones) I'd need to get to 26.2 for at least a few years.
But, dang, that FOMO is there -- and the struggle is real.
I know part of it is just that lack of free time that I described above: sandwich-generation working-mom life means that I often cannot control my time and life: the crazy travels I once had can't happen when vacation time and budget is eaten up to do eldercare visits for Mr. EBR's father (don't get me wrong -- we're lucky beyond lucky to have the money to visit him, and lucky beyond lucky he lives in a city like Madrid, but it's not the relaxed Eurotripping of my 20s). Financial responsibilities -- new roofs and whatever else an older home seems to need -- eat up fun money. Work or care ones take up the wandering "me day" fun I used to enjoy more often. When Facebook decided ot show me a memory of my last MCM -- 2018, so pre-pandemic, pre-kid, pre-elders-with-needs -- I can't help but feel a stab a missing all of that old freedom (cue the mom guilt HARDCORE for saying that!) even though I love so many things about my new life (yes, you can LOVE being a mom and also MISS Sundays that meant hours-long runs with friends followed by lazy, boozy brunch. Or, at least, I think you can)
Last MCM, with best running buddy G ... and FB reminding me to add to my FOMO
I'm going to take the best part of this less-free life -- my Tiny Overlord -- and listen to her advice. Sometimes, when she is tantrum-ing over some deep 3-year-old-slight (i.e. you said she can't eat a 15th Kit Kat at the Halloween party; the fork you gave her is not the right one; you flushed the potty or opened the door or pushed the button when "I WANT TO DO IT BY MYSELF!!!"), I will try to calm her and she will say "I want to get out my feelings."
And, I have to say, that's pretty wise advice.
I could end this with something totally positive or declare a new goal. But I'm just going to get my feelings out: Running FOMO. Sick. Cranky.
Sometimes, it's OK to just grump a bit. Just like Tiny Overlord eventually calms when she finds a NEW
button to salve her feelings, I am sure I will find mine too. But until then, I'll take her lead and just sit in them a bit.
