is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
The big fiver
Saturday, March 6, 2010 The end of February was only a few days away and my goal of running five miles was so close I could almost grasp it. Almost.
It was also a weekend Lil E was with me. The hallway of our home was crowded with as-yet unpacked suitcases and piles of laundry begging to be done. I was tired. My leg hurt. And now I could feel a pang in my hip, too.
I generally don't run on the weekends Lil E is home, preferring to give my full attention to him and the business of putting all those clothes away, doing all of that laundry and resting up for the week ahead. But last weekend, there was nothing I wanted to do more than run.
He was whiny when I told him he was going to have to go to the gym with me. It isn't like his dad's gym, with a kid's room and boys his age he knows there. He would have to take toys and things to do. He would have to entertain himself while I was plugged into earbuds and focusing my attention on my pace.
I promised him we'd play in the snow at the park when I was done and I packed a bag full of Star Wars figures and markers and a notebook he colors in. I threw in snacks, a water bottle that matched my own. He added a few stuffed animals "in case I need a snuggle and to rest." He wasn't happy, asking over and over if we could please put off the run until the next day.
I brought him in close, looked at him in the eyes and said sternly, "This is important to me. We do many things that are important to you and for the next hour, we are going to be a team and support me training for the big race. I have to train and sometimes I will have to do that while you are here. This is the deal and it's OK if you are not happy about it. You still have to go along and you still have to have good behavior. That's what it is."
I don't have to talk to him like that very often, so it didn't surprise me that he took it seriously. It also didn't surprise me that merely mentioning that we are a team turned his thinking around just enough.
"I want to support you, Mommy," he said softly.
"OK, then," I didn't want to let up to much. "I appreciate that. Let's get going."
The fitness room near our home is dark and dusty and crowded. But I pulled a chair over to a covered radiator and set Lil E up like it was his own nook among the recumbent bikes and weight machines.
"This is the coach's corner," I smiled as I laid out his things. And then I set myself up at the treadmill closest to him, gave him a thumbs up and took off.
I ran hard, ticking off increments of miles mentally. I couldn't look at the numbers on the screen, but I estimated how far I was going by which song came up on the playlist. My body yelled at me, the shouts of the some over-trained muscles battling it out with the ones that were weary after time off. But when I'd peek over at Lil E, drawing detailed scenes of Clone Troopers blasting their way through the galaxy or piecing together tiny parts of the Y-Wing Fighter while he lay partially under the chair on the floor of the fitness room, I was not only checking to see if he was safe and entertained and OK. I was reminding myself that he was living up to his part in this team effort and I could push myself to hold up my own.
Shaky shot, I know. Why can't my phone adjust for sprinting while shooting?
Occasionally, I would catch his eye. He would wink at me or give me a thumbs up. As I passed each mile, I shouted it out to him.
"Mile #1, done!" I yelled too loudly for the little room. "Can I get a WOO! WOO!?"
He'd smile and give me a woo woo, every time adding, "Get to five, OK, Mommy?!"
I did what I could, locking in on the warrior mentality that I now recognize sets in for me at two miles, trying not to sing the raunchy Amanda Blank lyrics out loud, sweating like crazy and breathing hard. Lil E brought me fishy crackers - two or three at a time -- to help fuel me up. Otherwise, he was quiet and unassuming, camped out in his own space in this new world of mine. I kept on.
This was real work. Injuries and traveling and worrying have taken a toll and it took some Jedi mind tricks of my own to keep propelling my body forward on that conveyer belt.
But I did. I hit Mile 2, then 3, and just when I was about to walk for a moment, I accelerated at hit 4. I wanted to slow down. I thought about stopping. Instead, I cranked up the speed two notches and sprinted toward 5. And then, there it was, sooner than I expected and looking more glorious than a red number really should -- 5.0 miles.
When I got there, just before I requested my final WOO! WOO!, I actually thought, "I think I could go on." And I do believe I could have.
But a few feet away, there was a boy dying to pull on his snow pants and burn his own energy at the park. There was a boy who agreed to support me and now deserved my full attention for a while.
Sore and exhausted, I wasn't as exhilarating a playmate at the park as Lil E wanted me to be. But I chased him and threw snowballs at him and did as much as I could, for as long as I could.
He didn't want to leave the park when my sweatiness turned to a chill and my hamstrings begged me to sit down. He wasn't happy about the dinner I chose either -- generous plates of Lad Nar and Pad Thai at my favorite noodle shop. But he went along with that, too.
We went home from our dinner exhausted and full and both of us ready to fall into bed. Lil E still wanted more time at the park, to go home and play, to eek more out of the last hours awake. I listened quietly to it all as I drove home, giving him the time and space to get out what he needed, knowing he'd had fun by the smile on his face as he closed his eyes when we got on the expressway.
The little protests were quieted completely by the many times he stopped me, yanked my hand and whispered up toward my listening ears, "Mommy, I am just so proud of you for running five miles!" and reminding me he couldn't wait to share it during news time at school.
I was proud of myself, too. And I was proud of him. This time I was the one exerting myself while he WOO! WOO!ed me on from the sidelines. Soon, I am sure our roles will be reversed.
And then there is the lesson of standing by someone just because you love them, just because there is a greater goal, just because an hour could change completely shift the axis of their world. Isn't that something we are all always learning?
You know what? My world did change that day. I met my goal with time to spare. FIVE MILES. Only months ago, I was pleased when my body to make it a matter of minutes. It was pretty great to have Lil E there with me, fighting so hard for something just for myself.
In the days since, he's volunteered to go back to the gym with me, saying, "That was fun-ish, boring-ish, Mommy! Really. I will TOTALLY go back."
And I might just take him up on that offer. Because a few fishy crackers and some little whispers, a wink and a WOO! WOO! made a big difference to me. And selfishly, if only for an hour, I'd like to earn more of that from my team.
