You Had Me at "5:15"

After a few more weeks of pure baby devotion, I slowly went back to running. Once I could rest, I saw that I wasn't completely starting over. My legs felt sore, but my lungs hung in pretty well.

I sputtered along as Emily's half-hearted, second-rate running partner though our schedules were different now. Emily needed to run in the afternoon, the worst time of day for a baby. I couldn't keep up while pushing the baby jogger, and I refused to dump a cranky infant on my husband the minute he walked through the door. Emily was my friend and it hurt to see the close of our era. We met to run here and there, but in the end, I casually drifted away.

For awhile I didn't do much but gawk at my baby. I couldn't be with him enough. I had no idea he would take over my heart, no my very being, with such ferocity. If I planned to do anything for myself it would not be at his expense. I hated to give up running, but in comparison, I really didn't care.

Was there someone else as devoted to her babies as I was? Someone willing to run at odd times on low-energy, maybe even wearing mashed bananas on her shorts? To stick with it, I needed a different breed of woman. Someone whose legs only took her as far as two tiny arms could reach.

I needed another Running Mama.

I mentioned my hope to a few friends at church, and through a friend of a friend, I met my running soul-mate. When I found her, heaven itself burst into song and unfurled the rainbow of joy over my snot-crusted shoulders. Her name was Jerri, disciplined runner and mother of two.

I said "Can you be up by 6:00?"

She said "How about 5:15?"

I said, "I will cancel last minute if my baby is sick."

She said, "Me too. Times two."

I said, "Do you run fast?"

She said, "Let's just stay together."

Cue tears of jubilation.

Before There Was Moo

I signed up for my first 5k because I wanted Kim Zmeskal's autograph. (It was the Edmond Classic-- do they still have that one?) I walked most of the course, and afterward I felt like someone shoved six Valium down my throat before dropping an anvil on my chest. I hadn't really trained because I didn't want to be an actual runner. I knew from high school track that running took a gene I didn't get.

Strangely, I fell in love with the whole race atmosphere. Races are easy to love. There are fresh, sporty people, free bagels, and this happy energy you can't explain. I signed up for another one right away.

ONE YEAR LATER I finally ran an entire 5k without walking. ONE YEAR. That has to be the slowest any runner has ever progressed. There are not any books on How To Run Your First 5k Within 12 Months, but why are we in such a hurry? If I were to write a running book I would call it How To Love Running and it would be a slow-paced, sweet book about relationships, silence, and God.

The next few posts are dedicated to my friends, who at various stages, are beginning their running journeys. But it is also for anyone who struggles. Running, just like life, is about doing what you think you can't. Maybe it will inspire you to run, but I hope it inspires you to persevere.

Jamie, Jen, Jessica, Michele, Tara, and of course, my Jerri. This is our story.

Clarification

Merry Christmas

From The Hawkins Family

First of all...

This is a late, cheap, unoriginal Christmas E-Card. Please consider it the heartfelt gesture of love I truly intended to post a few days ago... I love you all dearly and have had more fun this year blogging than you can imagine.

And for the clarification...

It was Christmas Eve service. Me and my two noisy, irreverent, children were sitting with my in-laws. It was a solemnly quiet moment, and the gazillion people around us were reflective while Big Toby gave the message.

Big Toby: Baby Jesus came to the world, grew into a man, and, finally, died for us on the cross.

Little Toby: (With a loud gasp) He died?

Apparently we have 32.9 years in the Life of Christ to cover in the new year.

Ripple Effects

Today I made our second grocery store trip of the pay period. Its the trip I detest because we are already out of everything, but can only buy the essentials without busting up our budget. I felt Dave Ramsey perched on my shoulder like Blackbeard's parrot eyeing my every selection. "Cubed cheese?," he chided. "CUBED CHEESE? Buy the 8 oz chunk and hack it up yourself, you lazy over-spender!" He carried on like this the whole time... it was terribly exhausting.

At the register I loaded up our stuff on the conveyor belt, keeping an item or two aside for emergency re-shelving in case I underestimated the total. A friend of mine got in line behind me and we chatted for a minute while we waited, though I was distracted by the increasing total on the register. When the checker finished I went for the scanner with my trusty debit card. Suddenly, I heard a "Wait, Don't run that!" from my friend. I looked up thinking I was mistakenly overcharged or something, but instead she gave the checker her card.

Girls, she bought my groceries. All of them.

"You don't have to do that!" I said, but I could see by her smile that it was a pleasure. I couldn't help it. I started crying right there in line at Super Target. THEN, the cashier started crying. I mean really, who goes to Super Target to be nice? I thanked my friend profusely and got all of our stuff in the car.

I was so stinkin' blessed, I had to call a few friends and tell them. Since I am usually complaining after I go to Super Target, it was a refreshing break for them. I dialed and talked all the way home. Here is the cool part: Everyone I told was inspired to do the same thing for someone else. I am getting chills just writing about it.

So, today, because of the overflow of love in one woman's heart, the ripple effects of blessing are as follows:

Me
My boys
Cashier
Greg
My mom
3 different friends (so far)
Unknown number of people who will soon be similarly blessed by those named above

And of course... you.

That is a huge return for a simple act of generosity. So, what could you do with $93.86?

Friends

Welp, my site got an overhaul. Thanks to the talent of a borrowed Mac Notebook you will now spend the first moment on "Tales from the Running Mama" hoping I remembered to Lysol the high chair tray. At least its a diversion from counting the spider veins on my thigh which is what I spend the first moment doing.



I have a confession. I do not have a computer. Well, I have a "computer" that my mother-in-law gave me two years ago that may be the actual first laptop man ever carved from stone. I think King Tut was clutching his gnarly mummified arms around it when they dug him out of his rickety old tomb. So if all you want to do is play solitaire or move the tiny hourglass cursor around the screen all afternoon while you are waiting for the Internet to connect, then I have the perfect machine for you.



Go ahead and feel sorry for me. I do. I pout every time I sit next to my husband at the kitchen table, tapping my foot, waiting for him to finish checking his e-mail and updating his Facebook status so I can use his own personal laptop that he has to himself all day. That is what I do just before I type up my post that I pre-wrote ON PAPER. In case you were wondering, paper is this white stuff that ancient peoples used to scrawl runes on before there was Microsoft Word.



Every cloud has its silver lining, and mine is this: Sunday afternoon I spent an hour and a half taking "Mac" pictures of my stupid running shoes in front of any baby paraphernalia available while laughing my face off with my best friend. Jen, thank you for everything you have ever done for me. I love sharing my life with you because you make it funnier, sweeter, and deeper than it would ever be alone.