Short stories from long runs

This blog about my run and training

When I got out of work last night, I was pleasantly surprised by the nice weather. I’ve referenced our beautiful weather a handful of times recently, but reality is, it’s still not that nice. Even on days when the sun is out, it’s wicked windy and cooler than usual for this time of year. Because of that, I think I sing the praises of sunny days even more and last night, we were definitely getting out for a walk.

Since I really hadn’t trained thoroughly leading up to the NJ Half and because I felt some tweaks here and there during and after the race, I’m taking it really easy this week. I don’t have any other races scheduled until the NYC Marathon November 1, so I have plenty of time to get my butt in gear. It’s just not worth it to tweak my knee or aggravate my hip or be impatient with my quads for the sake of a sunny evening. Instead, I put Henry in our Beco carrier (we have the ‘Stella’ print and love it) and headed out for some fresh air.

Now, I know this isn’t profound, but as I was walking (and chatting away with H), I thought about his little 15 pound body all snuggled up in the carrier, bopping along up in front of mama and was so struck by the fact that waltzing around like that was my 24/7 reality just seven or eight months ago. Each time I caught a look at my shadow — bump out in front — it just about bowled me over.

From the moment you find out you’re expecting, to the baby’s arrival, first smile, first laugh, you’re looking forward. I can’t wait until he gives me a hug… says Mama… follows me around the house. We look forward to those milestones and moments in anticipation. Last night, we slowed down. No stroller. No pace. No kick. Henry yammered on for awhile and we ran into a neighbor with her boys and then met another mom with a five-month old. I introduced myself and said hello. We walked on and I sang Old MacDonald softly, making H giggle.

Eventually Henry fell asleep, his head bouncing up and down on my chest with each step. It was slow, and simple, and sweet. For once, instead of looking ahead, shadow-glances made me remember the past, and we walked along together, just now.