I am just an average mile logger when it comes to running. I don’t expect to beat Eliud Kipchoge in this lifetime so once I can run three times weekly, I’m happy. However, I’ve always been fascinated with stories of female long-distance runners coming back after giving birth and shattering PRs (personal records). The articles I’ve read on this phenomenon, attribute it to physical changes in blood circulation and strength gained from running through pregnancy. I was therefore excited to start back running after giving birth thinking that I was going to get faster.
Unfortunately, that first postpartum run was horrible. It felt like I had never run in my life before. I was shocked and appalled as I had maintained three weekly runs throughout my pregnancy. However, I didn’t cry or get too emotional about it. In the back of my mind, I had expected it. I’ve stopped running for periods of time in the past before due to injury or just a desire to do another activity, so I knew I would get back my endurance, it would just take time and patience.
It took me a month to work back up to 5kms and I held that distance 3 times weekly for 2 months, then slowly started to increase my mileage. I picked a 12-week half-marathon training programme online and completed it. After my half marathon, I felt strong and was proud of myself. I then dropped my mileage back to 3 weekly runs between 45mins to 1hr each as it is what I can sustain with Alba’s schedule.
When I run, I don’t always leap lightly like a gazelle, and I definitely have the occasional thundering buffalypso plod, but motherhood has made me a better runner. Mothering is an endurance sport, and like any other sport the more you train the better you get. And with mothering every day is training day. I have learned to dig deep when I feel like I have no energy left.
Last week Thursday, Hasani found me on the floor crying in Alba’s playpen while singing her nursery rhymes. To this day I’m still not completely sure why I was crying. It was a mixture of fatigue, frustration, and bad weather. It was 5pm and I was desperate for 6pm to hand Alba over and have a minute to myself. However, Hasani had come to tell me that he had to work late so to go ahead and have dinner with Alba.
Pre motherhood me would have surrendered to life at this point. I would have ordered food, poured myself a big glass of wine and put on desperate housewives for the millionth time. However, post mummy me had to dry my tears, cook Alba’s dinner, coax her to actually eat it with songs and games, and then get her ready for bed. I had to dig deep to finish that final mile. All runners know that final mile. And like the post run high, the day ended with Alba and me dancing to my favourite French song, her little head nestled on my chest, her innocent eyes looking up at me.
It is this last mile that has become easier as a mother. The mental endurance to finish the day, to push through the fatigue, to reach the finish line. Running has helped me with mothering too. As a runner I know to listen to my body when it is telling me I need to rest or else I will get injured. There aren’t any rest days with mothering, but there are walks in the park when Alba can be entertained by her beloved pigeons safely in her stroller and I can mentally zone out for a bit, there is daddy time when I can lie down in bed and read, and there is the 30 minutes of nursery rhymes on television when I can cook dinner in peace and listen to a podcast. Like running, mothering is putting one foot in front the other, maintaining my stride, and keeping a steady breath. They’re both endurance sports.
