First world (distance) problems
Leave a commentAugust 12, 2011 by Amy B
Ah, tempo run Friday. I woke up at 5:30, ate my waffle and waited for it to not be so dark that I’d worry about getting run over on the highway.
I pushed myself this morning and felt like I’d run a PR on my 8 miler. Then I got back and saw it was a quarter mile short. Is there anything worse?
OK, so of course there are worse things and my problems are totally first world problems.
Actually, first world problems were on my mind during my run this morning. Wednesday after my run I spent 12 hours in the car driving back home to the U.P. When we finally pulled in the driveway I was tired, sore, and did I mention tired?
I came home, ten days later, to a house that looked like no one had lifted a finger to pick up, clean, or otherwise give a shit for ten days. And I was annoyed. And my true level of annoyance was slightly masked by my extreme tiredness and relief to be not driving in a car. But then I went to bed. And it was a combination of frustration and anger and disappointment and helplessness that ended with me waking during the middle of the night from a panic attack/nightmare. The kind I’d get when I was a kid. The kind of thing that makes me not want to go back to sleep.
I woke up even more angry, with a whining toddler, a house that looked like a shitstorm had been through it, and knowing that it would be next to impossible to get anything cleaned with the kid. Because that is the story of my life.
I use these runs to get things straight, to try to return to the house a better person, partner, mother. I know that my problems are first-world problems. There are people who would love to have my tribulations: a messy house full of more than we need; fruit flies because we have an abundance of food; frustration with a partner because he’s around.
I get it. But some days are easier to be thankful than others.
I came back from the run tired but in a slightly better place. The house is still a mess, we still have a fly infestation, but I just ate a wonderful wrap full of chicken garlicky mushroom goodness and shared a popsicle with my daughter.
It’s Friday. My long run is in the morning (18 miles, eek), but I’m grateful I am able-bodied to train for a marathon and have the luxury of time to do it.
I may just need reminding from time to time.

I know she won't remember this, but I will.

Sophie watching a kite flying at Mackinac