#439: A Catch-up Session with Two Best Running Friends
Sarah and Molly, with special guest Alex Ward, the show’s longtime producer, play a game of catch-up. Alex and Sarah, co-presidents of the Silly Fractured Ankles Club, compare notes, then Molly and Sarah detail how their relationship has morphed during the pandemic due to a variety of factors, including Molly’s bum knee. A short, laugh-filled episode!
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Seven Months Into the Pandemic and I’m…A Brand New Mom.
Unlike many, I knew that 2020 was going to be life-changing. Happily pregnant, my husband and I were eagerly awaiting the birth of our first daughter, Lucy, who was due at the end of May.
But the world that Lucy was born into was radically different than what we expected.
I was thankful that I was able to run throughout my entire pregnancy, especially as the pandemic turned our lives upside down. Already an anxious person, I worried about exposure to COVID-19, hospital restrictions that could impact our delivery experience, and the increasing likelihood that our loved ones wouldn’t be able to be there for Lucy’s birth. It was a lot to grapple with.
But running continued to have its calming effect, giving me some time to focus on Lucy. I was 7 months pregnant when the pandemic reached the United States. By then, Lucy was kicking a lot, especially while I ran. Those flutters took my mind off of COVID and reminded me that our dream baby was doing well. I just needed to do everything possible to protect her.
Even at 39 weeks, I ran 3-5 miles every other day, albeit at a much slower pace than I had been accustomed to, and taking great pains to socially distance from others. Thankfully, my pregnant belly was enough of a warning sign for people to stay away as I ran through our neighborhood.
On May 25th, I went for a 5-mile run, knowing my due date of May 30th was around the corner. It was a beautiful spring day and I made sure to take it all in, knowing it could be one of my last runs for a while. Eight hours later, my water broke, and we welcomed Lucy at 8:35AM on May 26th.
I can say confidently now, having run 7 marathons, childbirth is much harder, but the payoff surpassed the pain. She was, and remains, healthy and perfect.
As new parents, the first few weeks with a newborn were challenging and exhausting. The nonstop feeding and little sleep, coupled with recovering from delivery and a third-degree tear, made the thought of moving beyond walking our dog around the block unfathomable.
But once I got back to running, beginning off with a very cautious 3-mile run, I started to feel like myself again. Working its usual magic, the run shut my brain off from thoughts about the pandemic, or worries I had about my daughter, just like those of any new mom.
I knew from so many other mothers that taking the time for myself to run would make me a better mom, but I feel that’s even more true now that I’m raising a baby in a pandemic.
Lucy is such a joyful baby and, thankfully, has no idea what’s going on outside our little bubble. She deserves a mom who is present for her, and running has helped to ensure that I can do that.
Read more Seven Months into the Pandemic essays.
AMR Answers #53: Pre-run Anxiety; Hill Repeats
Sarah and Dimity tell:
-Jackie her pre-run anxiety is perfectly natural—and remind her she holds the power;
-Canadian Tianna some simple and easy pre-run fueling options (including these muffins);
-Suzanne the 10% rule applies to distance and intensity—and how to measure it out;
-Kate what’s what with hill repeats, including what incline to aim for.
Discover the benefits of CBD: Use code AMR to save 15% off your order at NaturesGemCBD.com
Need more Answers? Check out more episodes!
AMR Answers #53: Pre-run Anxiety; Hill Repeats
Sarah and Dimity tell:
-Jackie her pre-run anxiety is perfectly natural—and remind her she holds the power;
-Canadian Tianna some simple and easy pre-run fueling options (including these muffins);
-Suzanne the 10% rule applies to distance and intensity—and how to measure it out;
-Kate what’s what with hill repeats, including what incline to aim for.
Discover the benefits of CBD: Use code AMR to save 15% off your order at NaturesGemCBD.com
Need more Answers? Check out more episodes!
Seven Months Into the Pandemic and I’m…In the Eye of a Hurricane.
Seven months into the pandemic and I’m close to cresting one of my favorite hills in a beautiful park full of fall color when “Hurricane” from the Hamilton soundtrack starts playing in my headphones.
It’s been a rough couple of days, full of bad news and worse sleep, and I feel my emotions bubbling up with the opening piano chords of the song. I grab those feelings and use them to fuel my charge up to the hill’s peak. As the lyrics kick in, it occurs to me that my runs feel like the eye of a hurricane in these pandemic days.
Fear, anxiety, and uncertainty swirl around me every day: Will one of us contract the virus today? How will we keep everyone safe? Are we making the right decisions for ourselves and our community about school, activities, and work? But despite this continuous eddy of existential chaos in my head, when I’m out for a run, “there is quiet, for just a moment” and sometimes even “a yellow sky”.
It’s not immediate, this quiet. I’m often propelled out the door by some overwhelming feeling of anxiety or helplessness, and it takes a good warm-up before I am able to replace those feelings with a focus on my feet hitting the trail or the breeze on my face. The process is accelerated if there’s a technical component to that day’s run (e.g. Pick Ups or Tempo), but regardless, after that first mile, my head is clear and my heart is lighter. It’s pure joy that carries me through the day.
On this day, though, Day 200 of My Pandemic Life, the tears I’ve been holding back for months are unleashing themselves at this lyric “And when my prayers to God were met with indifference, I picked up a pen. I wrote my own deliverance.”
Suddenly, in this crisp fall day, I’m careening downhill, the scenery a blur as I’m picking up speed and salty tears are carving paths down my flushed cheeks. The levee that my running usually creates is being washed out by emotional storm surge.
I keep running, my prescribed 3 mile “easy” run transforms into 7 miles of pounding the terrain beneath my feet, as I picture the trail of sweat and tears I’m leaving in my jagged wake. “Leaving” in my wake. It dawns on me that, as I run hard and cry harder, I’m jettisoning these feelings of grief and hopelessness, and that affords me more space to pick up gratitude.
I CAN do this: My legs pump and my lungs inflate, my body is a fully functioning machine. I GET to do this: I have the time and the privilege to run 7 miles in a safe park with fresh air and sunshine. I WILL run “my way out” of this pandemic, over the flotsam and jetsam, carrying more of the good stuff with me through to the other side of this hurricane.
Read more Seven Months into the Pandemic essays.
Seven Months Into the Pandemic and I’m…Falling in Love with my Family Again.
Quarantining with my family hasn’t been the worst thing ever. I feel like I’m getting part of my life back.
2019 rocked our world.
January of 2019 we found out the Vermont college my husband worked at was closing, and he was out of a job. In February, within 24 hours of accepting a new job in Minnesota, my husband was diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma.
So in March, we—actually our community of friends—packed our house up in Vermont and moved our family to Duluth. He started a new job, and cancer treatment. At that time we had a four-year-old and a seven-month-old, and our family relationships changed. My four-year-old, obviously frustrated by the situation, often took a lot of his anger out on me, while my husband pretty much slept as often as possible. And the baby? He nursed all the time and seemed to like me no matter if I was showered or not. He was my light.
I paint this picture to say that seven months into the pandemic, I have my family back.
My husband is in remission and is working from home. He’s even picked up running! What a hottie!) We all get to see him happy and healthy. As for my angsty four year old…he’s six now, distantly learning, and our relationship is healing.
We’ve been running a little bit together with Love the Run You’re With Jr. He holds my hand when we cross streets. Sometimes he forgets to let go, and we run hand in hand. That might be my favorite.
The baby’s two now, putting words together, and cracking us all up.
As for me, I’ve made a few friends in Duluth and a solid BRF. Running has been my breath, time alone, and reminder that I can do hard things (both physically and mentally). Hard thing #who’s-even-counting-any-more coming up for me… the Duluth Wild 50K in a week and a half!
P.S.: Race Report: It snowed for the first third of the race, blessing the entire Superior Hiking Trail with accumulated snow/slop, making many parts one slick-show on a course with 5,000+ feet of elevation! As for me, my goal was to keep my heart rate around 150. This strategy paid off in the long run; I was strong at the end, passing those folks that weren’t enjoying the slop and cold of an already tough trail. Overall, my training was solid, and I’m proud of the race! I can do hard things. (And a special shout out to Holly, a local BAMR and dear friend, who brought me pizza at the end and drove me home.)
Read more Seven Months into the Pandemic essays.