It is 9:20 p.m. I am laying on my daughter's bedroom floor, in my just-arrived
CARA Marathon training t-shirt with my laptop, waiting for her to go to sleep
( Please don't judge, Mike and I know we screwed up bedtime with her long ago. We're working on it.)At approximately 3 p.m. today I commented at work that I really want to try to run tonight. My colleague couldn't really understand why it would be an issue . . .you run and that's that. I didn't explain in detail to my colleague why it will be a small victory to get me on the treadmill tonight so I will explain it to you.
(Note: The following passage is not intended as commentary that I am busier than anyone else, or that I'm busier than runners without kids, or that I'm busier than runners who are stay-at-home moms, or that I'm busier than runners who are work-at-home moms, or that I am even remotely as busy as single parents. In other words, if you take offense, please lighten up.)5 p.m. Conference call ends, I grab my stuff and rush out the door, down the looong walkway to parking garage. Forget I came later and not in my usual spot 9 (s#*t!), have to run up flight of stairs to car.
5:15 p.m. Arrive at 6-year-old's school. Sign him out and get back in car. Plead with son to stop doing the chicken dance and get in the car because we have to pick his sister up.
5:25 p.m. Zip down Higgins Road past Busse Woods on way to 4-year-old's preschool. See several runners on Busse Wood path. Remind myself I have to run tonight.
5:30 p.m. Waiting at stop light. Where is my cell phone?
5:35 p.m. Hit every godforsaken light on Arlington Heights Road. Crap. Still can't find cell phone. Hoping I didn't leave it at son's school.
5:45 p.m. Arrive at daughter's preschool. Sign her out and use phone at school. Call
Mike, ask him to give me a couple minutes and call my cell phone. Tell him that if someone else answers, ask where it is. Silently hope that I still don't have the phone on "silent" from when I was on conference call at work.
5:47 p.m. Buckle kids in car; hear the familiar
Flock of Seagulls "I Ran" ringtone. Phew!
5:55 p.m. Hit every godforsaken light going the other direction on Arlington Heights Road.
6:00 p.m. McDonald's drive-thru. Happy Meals for kids, two cheeseburgers for me. And just like that, I blow a day of otherwise decent eating habits.
6:05 p.m. Try to decide if I can get to swimming lessons faster by taking Golf Road or Higgins Road.
6:10 p.m. Start down Golf Road. See fast, fit runners. I am eating the second cheeseburger.
6:15 p.m. Tell kids to take shoes and socks off and put flip flops on in the car to save time. Swimming lessons start in 20 minutes.
6:20 p.m. WTF, why are we so backed up? Golf Road an obvious mistake as light out in front of
Woodfield Mall, making a congested area even more congested.
6:3o p.m. Son warns me to slow down or police will pull me over. (One time it happened while he was in the car and he hasn't forgotten.)
6:31 p.m. Resign myself to the fact that we will be late for swimming. Tell son to take shirt off at stoplight to save time.
6:35 p.m. Kids should be in pool. We are pulling in to lot.
6:40 p.m. Pretending they are superheroes, kids put swimsuits on remarkably quickly.
7:05 p.m. Swimming over. Head home.
7:20 p.m. See that my CARA Marathon Training goody bag/packet/shirt has arrived. Very excited.
7:30 p.m. Kids and I take
Quincy for walk.
7:45 p.m. Quincy steals potato chips out of daughter's hand. Meltdown.
8 p.m. Supervise son taking shower to make sure he is actually bathing and not just playing in water.
8:30 p.m. Pick out kids' clothes for Summer Camp/PreSchool tomorrow. Mentally calculate what time I can run and still get to bed before needing to get in office at 7 a.m.
8:31 p.m. Wonder if I can get to office at 7:30 a.m. and still be ready for first meeting.
8:32 - 8:50 p.m. Nightly battle of potty, pajamas, tooth brushing and sibling fights ensues - - without reinforcement, since Mike is at work.
It's 9:35 p.m. Daughter has stopped singing soundtrack from High School Musical and is asleep. Going to run now!