i have had this mug for as long as i can remember. it may have been my mother’s from her childhood. we may have “borrowed” it from a rented shore house. the details of the mug’s origins are fuzzy. what i do know is i always have loved this mug. so much so that instead…
i wish i could somehow show this photo to myself ten years ago.
“chill. you will find a GORGEOUS man. a good man. and you will have a baby boy with curly blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes. and they will both love you so much that they root for the mets.
twenty four months ago i gave birth to our son. eight months ago i brought our daughter into the world. seven months ago i started training. and in five days i am running the new jersey marathon.
today was the longest of my marathon training runs. this week and in particular this run have been glaring up at me from my training calendar for the last six months.
i ran sixteen of the slowest miles any human being has ever traveled on friday. by the time i crossed the threshold into my house i was utterly defeated. my pace is no where near where it once was.
i toast the mamas who cringe at the “normalize breastfeeding” hashtag while silently wishing they could also erase the stigma thrown onto formula feeding families. i see you.
with more information than we could ever hope to consume at our fingertips, being a new mama has never been more confusing. i think. but like i said… i am a first time mother so really how the hell should i know?
But once a month, every month, for the last eight months, my heart has broken. Every negative pregnancy test has shattered me and each time a well-intentioned person asks, “and when are you going to have a baby?” my heart blisters as I respond, “soon I hope.”
the door to the gym where i get my fitness on boasts a sign which brilliantly states: “because today is another chance to get it right.” this quote greeted me upon my first visit to the gym and has since served as a daily reminder to throw all my effort into each workout. as the days rolled on into a new year i began turning those words over in my head.
adulthood, for me, began the moment when instead of ignoring the voice between my ears, i shut my mouth, opened my ears, and listened with my head and my heart.