"Moms Can Still Be Athletes," one year later

Last year

On my summer trip to Seattle in 2024, I was curious if I could build some momentum toward bigger things in my run training. I’m still not sure exactly what I was chasing—only that I wasn’t going to do any sort of run comeback if I didn’t start… running more. At least more than three days a week. And although I do my job most of the time I’m in Seattle, so it’s not exactly a vacation, it’s a fairly distraction-free environment compared to being home. Plus the weather is way cooler than our hot Austin summers. So if something was going to happen, it would start there.

I wrote about that experience on my Substack, and came up with a piece that eventually got published in Like The Wind.

In short, last year, I ran a single 30-mile week. It took a lot to get there and the trouble to keep doing it seemed like too much. It’s been revealing of my priorities, for certain. At the time, I also did a 4-month stint with a nutritionist who suggested that running more was just going to be more stress. I wasn’t in a place where I had extra energy to expend. The rest of the year I ran 13-25 miles per week.

So fast forward through last fall, I trained for February’s Austin Half Marathon, started doing workouts again, had a coach again for a few months, and even finished my race 12 minutes faster than the year prior.

1:41 has marathon. This was mile 12.5 on a massive hill. Still smiling, so you know I was having fun.

The postpartum PRs were falling like dominoes, and I could run a little faster on my easy days, but still didn’t do more than three days a week. I maxed out at 25 miles a week, and usually did less than 20. Still lifting 2-3 times a week, and walking on the off days. I was happy with the progress, but didn’t feel like ramping it up from there. Although my work stress has improved, my sleep is much more regular, and my anxiety is mostly gone, all things that plagued me during the immediate postpartum years, my body still doesn’t feel like it used to. Life and health still feels precarious, with work travel, kid sickness, and parenting responsibilities. I’d rather keep my running at a level I know I can do, versus swing big and be disappointed.

I did explore getting a longer term coach this spring, after the half. I wanted to focus on speed instead of adding more miles or training for a marathon. I tried a brief stint of plyometrics and some quicker, shorter workouts, but my pelvic floor prolapse symptoms flared up. Looking back, this probably demonstrated the need for a coach more than my body’s ability to keep going, but I didn’t want to risk the progress I’d made. Also pelvic floor PT is $250/visit. This searching and testing phase took a few months, and before I knew it, it was time to go to Seattle again.

This year

I got back up to Seattle in mid-June, and I thought briefly, should I try to make it a thing again this year? Ratchet it up? Have another big week? My pelvic floor hadn’t bothered me for more than a few days a month, and the weather should be nice again.

But then I just found myself … not thinking about it again. I ran several days a week. Aside from a couple really long days, I didn’t put a lot of concerted effort into the runs. Getting out the door was important, but how far or how fast was not. Instead, what I thought about were the people I got to run with, or doing novel routes.

The most memorable runs from the summer

• A point-to-point Lake Washington run with Lesko en route to picking up a rental car. “I’m down for some shenanigans,” her text responding to my invitation said. I felt seen!

• Cruising Alki Beach with Phoebe in the stroller and Helene riding her bike. She can pedal the perfect jogging speed. Maybe later we can work on her not stopping suddenly to push a hair out of her face.

• A challenging 10 mile run-hike up to Lake Colchuck with two Austin friends. We ran two miles of the way down so I’m counting it.

• Miles around cloudy West Seattle with Anne

• Racing against the clock through downtown Seattle to make it to the water taxi on time

• An 11-miler with the Green Lake group my first weekend (50°s and drizzly, ha!).

• Running all the way from West Seattle to my office in Fremont (9 miles).

Can I be real for a sec?

I’m still getting more honest with myself about what I want out of this sport. For most of the time since I got pregnant for the first time five years ago, it’s been “I miss running, I miss being fast” 👉🏻👈🏻

And I do, but do I miss it badly enough to start making something happen again? Do I want to be away from my family that much? Not really. Also, would it even work? At 35 lbs heavier, I can tell you I would not be as fast as I used to be. Of course that can’t be the only marker of success, but for the most part running is working for me just like it is right now. And I’m really surprised to say that out loud. But I know I’m like, fortunate in a sense to get to do what I do. I love having our Saturday morning babysitter so I have time to get a coffee after my run. Jake gets to run too. We save Sundays for family walks and relaxing. I go to my gym a couple times a week. Run with friends. There are no commitments and it’s all just so simple. I don’t get hurt and I don’t get stressed like I used to.

I read this quote once, something like:

“Decide on your effort and make peace with your results.

Or decide on your results and make peace with your effort.”

(I tried to find the original but couldn’t… hopefully I haven’t appropriated something). And that made it clear to me. I chose this effort, not an outcome. I think the people who are really great at running also choose their effort—if you’re fixated on results, it’s really hard to be happy about the sport—but they’re also the people who love the grind, the process, and are excited to see how far they can take it. As someone who’s been fortunate to have achieved a lot of their goals, I know both the effort that took …and the hunger I felt afterward, wanting even more. I’m happy with my process right now, and don’t want to jeopardize that in favor of results that may or may not come.

Am I playing it safe? I mean, sure. But I don’t feel bad about that anymore. I still love the idea of staging some sort of comeback but I think I’m realizing how unusual that is, versus before, it was all “why not me?” That messaging is inspirational. But now when there’s a small voice saying, Why not me? I’m like, girl, it’s not a bunch of other people either.