My brain is a word salad of thoughts and ideas. A huge segment is devoted to Taylor Swift lyrics and donuts. There’s the ongoing to-do list that feels like it’s pulsating in neon orange at all times, and I can’t forget the area that remembers the names of all the dogs in my neighborhood but not the names of my neighbors. Mother’s Day, funnily enough, is nowhere to be found. 

Type 1 fun is my love of Taylor Swift

But in one corner of my noggin you’ll find this thought: Need a reset in your relationship with humanity? Go spectate a marathon. Need a reset in your relationship with yourself? Sign up for a race.

This has been my MO for years now, and so far (in my scientific test group of me, myself, and I) it has a 100% effectiveness rate—especially that second part—which is why I don’t mess with the formula. Training for and finishing a race is hands down the best boost for my self-esteem and mental clarity. 

So when my kids texted and asked what I wanted for Mother’s Day, I resisted the urge to reply, “Just your love.” I mean, I do want their love, but this year I’m pulling the emergency cord and asking for what I truly need: A reset in my relationship with myself! 

It’s time to sign up for an event, and I’ve got my eye on a doozie: Chase the Moon. I’ve been trying to attend for years but given that it takes place overnight and in the middle of July when we’re usually out of town, it’s been nothing but roadblocks between me and making it happen.

But 2024 is the year! It’s exactly the Type 2 fun I live for, and it’s unique enough it has me itching to strap on my headlamp and toe that dirt starting line. The training will strengthen my body and mind, and the sense of accomplishment when I finish will be a BAMR booster shot straight into my veins. Seems like the perfect Mother’s Day gift to me.

Type 2 fun is the finish line of a dirt trail

I’ve registered, blocked off the date on the calendar, and admonished my family that they cannot expect my presence that weekend. If they want to have belated-Mother’s-Day donuts waiting for me when I’m done, that would be just fine. I will probably (ok, definitely) need to text them that morning to remind them, but they’ll still taste just as good.

Need to push the reset button on your own priorities? You certainly don’t need my permission but I’m going to give it anyway: register for that next race!