If you ever get the chance to hit the AMR road with SBS and Dimity (to say nothing of Denise, the backstage muscle and funny bone), I urge you to do it. The three days I spent as part of the TFAMR tour were a hoot, even when they were tedious, as long trips on the New York State Thruway can be. Laughs were had. The world’s best nachos consumed. Needlepoint was needlepointed.

The best part, as you might expect, was meeting so many other mother runners. Really. Sometimes it feels like I’m in my little mountain hamlet throwing words out into the internet voids. But to meet real live women who can identify with a lumbering runner like me, well, it does my heart good.

Andover's Quality Audience

Andover’s Quality Audience

And to continue down this selfish path, what was even more rewarding was getting to read my essay from TFAMR to two groups who really had their listening ears on, especially when one is used to lecturing to undergrads. I almost yelled “Put Your Freaking Phones Away” out of habit, even though no one had their phones out.

As they say at my son’s elementary school, you guys are a quality audience. Thank you.

I bring it up not (just) because I want to brag about the events but because reading my essay about my first ten mile run couldn’t have come at a better time. This Sunday, my first ten mile run of 2015 was scheduled. The weather, just like it was last March, was up to the spring-in-Upstate-New-York standard, which means it was in the 20s, windy as a politician, and snowing. Woo.

Because my eldest daughter is a generous soul who can’t be bothered to get a clean toothbrush cup and has started using mine without telling me, I managed to catch her case of the sniffles despite my ninja-like germ containment skills. By the morning of the ten miles, I was feeling decidedly sub-awesome. Not awful, just not quite myself. I stuffed my jacket pockets with a dozen tissues, a water bottle, a few Gu, and my phone, then added lined tights and super nerdy ear warmer/headband and went out anyway. Because that’s how we do.

I pass by this sign every time I take this route. Anyone need a barrel? I can hook you up.

I pass by this sign every time I take this route. Anyone need a barrel? I can hook you up.

To add to the look, I spent the first mile retrieving my underpants from the vast crevasse of my tushie. Yes, I know all the cool kids go commando. I usually do — but not in this particular pair of tights. Long story — and one that gets painfully TMI. If nothing else, the underpants situation kept my mind off of how dreadful the first mile was so, upside, I guess.

As ten mile runs go, it was good. I had lots of time with my own thoughts and a couple of podcasts. I didn’t get frostbite. After the first few miles, it wasn’t easy or hard; it just was, which is all one can ask, sometimes.

I came home, stretched, showered, and snacked. All things considered, I felt OK. Tired, yes, and a little sore and a little sniffly but fundamentally sound.

I got up the next morning and discovered that someone had worked my legs over with a pillowcase full of golfballs while I’d slept. Stairs were challenging — both up and down. The worst, however, was trying to push my wheeled office chair back while I was sitting in it, which is an oddly specific way to cause pain.

Maybe all of the phlegm left me dehydrated? Or my compression sock have lost their squeeze?Or maybe someone did sneak in with a pillowcase full of golfballs? Whatever it was, the delayed onset aches were kind of a bummer.

Still, I soldier on.

There’s only a fast-as-I-can eight on tap for this Sunday, then *gulp* 12 super slow next weekend. In between, of course, are some shorter, speedy runs and some strength stuff, which I’m not entirely certain how I’ll get done given that my husband is in the great state of Ohio for a conference and the kids have really turned their Demand-O-Meters up to 11. It’ll happen — but won’t be pretty.

I’m starting to feel almost optimistic about the Pittsburgh Half Marathon and my modest time goal of under 2:30. Which means I’m about to injure myself because it simply can’t go this smoothly.

I ran through a student film shoot on Sunday morning, which is one of the charms of a college town.

I ran through a student film shoot on Sunday morning, which is one of the charms of a college town.

Speaking of Pittsburgh, I’m planning a mother runner meet-up on Saturday, May 2. Holler in the comments if you can join us. And, um, if you know of a venue. I’m going to see what’s downtown — or “dahn-tahn” as we say — and has plenty of carbs on the menu.

And if you’re not going to be in da ‘burgh, have you ever been surprised by how sore you felt the next day after a run?