I wasn’t always a runner, but I entered a race due to some serious convincing from a friend, took first place in my age group for said race and never looked back. Overnight, running when from something I disliked to a passion. I now love to run, it’s a release for me, something I have complete and total control over, or so I thought.
I ran though my entire pregnancy, over 360 miles in total, I even ran while in labor between contractions. The above picture was taken after my ‘labor run’ between contractions. I knew that I planned to run postpartum and I had everything setup to be running 1 month after Genevieve’s birth but it seems God had other plans. Genevieve will be 5 months old tomorrow and yesterday was our first walk/jog. My labor was beautiful and I have no regrets or bad feelings but it was difficult on my body and as such, I am still, very much healing. I had hopes to run another half marathon before the holiday season, but that just doesn’t seem possible at this time, and I’m ok with that. My inability to run for so long enabled me to let go of my own expectations and in that, I found a new love for running; An appreciation of the act itself. Simply being able to run was worth rejoicing over, not how far or how fast. I hope to run again, but either way, this experience has taught me a valuable lesson, that running was never promised to me. It, like everything, is a gift.
“…there was some kind of connection between the capacity to love and the capacity to love *running*. The engineering was certainly the same: both depended on loosening your grip on your own desires, putting aside what you wanted and appreciating what you’ve got, being patient and forgiving and… undemanding…maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that getting better at one could make you better at the other.”
― Christopher McDougall, Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen