Muscle Memory

I made myself wait a few hours after running to write this post. You know, let the crazy endorphins abate a bit so my words actually make sense (because my oh my were there endorphins today).

Something spectacular has been happening lately while I run.  I've been dreaming up how to best convey it for weeks and months now.  Let's see how I do.

Every time I run it's the same story.  My mind first quiets and calms.  As I settle into a comfortable pace it's almost like I'm floating above myself, my legs moving on their own, my mind free.

I get my best ideas while running.  Have my clearest most awesome thoughts.  It's like sipping on a delicious macchiatto in your sharpest outfit, talking with your best friend, and probably solving world peace, all without a care in the world.  It's awesome.

Funny thing is.  My thoughts have changed some.  Before having the girls I used to have these great ideas for novels (because you KNOW I've always wanted to write one) children's books, paintings.  Difficult problems suddenly had simple answers.   I had monumental clarity during my runs.  Felt super human.

I still have that experience, especially after a good long run.  But now, instead of grand ideas for books and art, or anything really productive and worthy, I think about the birth of my daughters.

At first this was a bit odd, and surprising for me.  Rounding the tight corner of the health club track this winter an image suddenly popped into my mind.  A clear as day recollection of those final moments of Ainsley's birth.

I remember that run so clearly.  One of the first of my official "training" for ragnar.  It was the third one in fact, the first two had gone well.  Relatively easy 3 and 4 milers at the same track (because goodness knows I'm not a winter outdoor runner, ooh, and that sauna after the run sure is nice.)

In short, I was cocky.  Another 3 miler in the same week? No problem.  I started off too fast, as cocky runs tend to start.  The first mile was ridiculous.  Under 8 minutes if I remember correctly (practically FLYING for me).  Then came mile two.  My lungs seized up, my whole body seemed to cramp at once, my mind was screaming at me to stop.  It was a nightmare.  Turn the corner to mile 3...BAM.  Birth flashback.


Because a flashback is involuntary I had no choice but to roll with it.  To accommodate it in my I've had enough please let me stop! filled brain.  The playback wasn't graphic, if that's what you're thinking.  Oh no, even with the mirror in place at her birth I have absolutely no memory of all that.   My memory, in fact, uncluttered in my endorphin filled state, was of strength.

I finished my run, barely, but strong.  I stretched a little and headed for my sauna reward.  Sitting on the cedar bench sweating so much I had to close my eyes my mind blanked again.  I was zonked.  10 miles in one week?  are you kidding me?!?  I thought nothing of the flashback moment and went on with my mama of 2 filled life...until the next time I ran.

Just about every run since I've had that same moment.  The flashback may be a bit different.  Sometimes it's Louises' birth, sometimes they're long moments, sometimes quick glimpses.  But they're there.  As persistant and constant as ever.

And now I get it.

Running is hard.  Has anyone told you this?  If they tell you it's easy they're lying.  I'm a pretty good runner.  I don't say this to pat myself on the back but to assure you that this is coming from a person who has run, a fair amount, and relatively painlessly and it still SUCKS about 30% of the time.  If you don't eat well, haven't drank enough water or stretched appropriately forget about it, your run is going to blow.  If you're tired or the weather is weird or you have to run at a bizarre time just to get your run in...it's probably going to blow too.

Thing is, my runs have been going SO well since these flashbacks have followed me around.  I've had very few bad, hard runs.  I can run with nothing but a half cup of coffee in my stomach, and soar. I can run unexpectedly at 5pm after having had no water all afternoon, and fly.  I can run 5-7 miles and it is truly no big deal.  I'd take any sort of credit for this but I can't.  I really haven't been training that hard or dieting in any sort of way that could account for how great I feel running.

I chalk it all up to muscle memory.  You see these flashbacks, as it turns out, are my body's way of reminding me that I can do anything.  When I am in a place of stress or pain or man I just want to give up my body remembers doing it, one of the hardest things it's ever done, and suddenly, it's no big deal.


I have stayed away from ever stating my opinions about pregnancy and birth because I truly feel it's every woman's (husband's, family's) choice for how they want to bring their little ones into the world. Clearly I feel strongly about how I brought my girls into the world because it was my choice, but I don't impose that opinion on anyone.  All I can say is that out of the blue, 3 years and 16 months respectively after giving birth without IVs, medication, epidural or help of any kind, my body remembers what it did and it helps me just about every day of my life.

And now that I know what these flashbacks are for?  I find myself pulling from that strength all the time.  In the middle of a long day with the girls, a spat with Ian, a dark feeling of loneliness and entrapment that can sometimes swallow a stay at home parent whole...are all eased a bit, because if I can do that, I can do most anything.

So this running thing...yeah, it's been good.  And for the record, recalling all that pain and hand gripping and yelling, elation and strength?  Only makes me want to do it all over again.