Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

This summer I decided to really put my mind to it and run the Dallas Marathon. I was in desperate need of a goal. I hadn't been able to properly exercise in months and still wasn't technically allowed to run when I decided December 9th would be the big day. I signed up almost without thought. Of course I would do it. Of course I could do it. And about a month later, I signed up for a running group - Austin Fit - and was excited to really train for this race. Training started in August, and I was stoked to be out there with friends in a motivating environment. But even with all these positives swirling around, I quickly realized I may have set a lofty goal.

Chuck was three months old when training started. He was certainly not sleeping through the night. And while I thought, at the time, he was on a great schedule, in hindsight, we were still in the midst of quite the juggling act. Long runs on Saturday morning were faced with gigantic barriers. I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to pump. I didn't want to leave Charlie. As I've said before, the weekends are my sanctuary, and while this is still true today, it was unbelievably true in Charlie's first few months. I lived for the weekends to have John home with us. So I put off the Saturday morning group training runs. I ran by myself around the house. No big deal. Then John and I realized we weren't allowed to run with Chuck in the jogging stroller until he was 6 months old. And I can honestly say, it was at this moment that the marathon dream slipped away. I wasn't going to get up crazy early to pump and run every weekday morning. I was exhausted. I wasn't going to run at the end of the day. I was drained. I simply wasn't going to run until Charlie could come with me. Sure I could still train on the weekends, but I knew it wouldn't be enough. I needed way more time to build my base. The marathon suddenly just wasn't realistic.

Maybe these are a lot of excuses. Maybe I should have been more motivated. Maybe I should be disappointed. I'm not though. I'm healthier than I've been in months. I'm running every weekday morning, and I'm building a solid base. I'm not worried about my dream deferred. I'll surely come back to it. It'll just take a little more time. Motherhood's a fantastic teacher of patience.