The long road ahead

I haven't logged onto my blog for many, many weeks; I feel a strange sense of personal guilt about my hiatus, and I didn't want to actually confirm when I last made an entry.  But upon finally taking the plunge today, I see that I haven't visited this site in almost four months.

Since running my half-marathon in March, my miles have gotten slower and much fewer in number.  The weather is often oppressively hot and humid, which doesn't help matters much, but mostly it's just hard for me to find the time and motivation to do much more.   I feel blessed that I have 30-40 minutes each morning for a run -- a claim my poor husband can't share.  I also know that, if only I could tear myself away from Ryder a little more quickly once his nanny walks in our door, I might even have 20 minutes more on the road.  Alas, I cannot.  I simply enjoy every moment I get with Ryder, and especially in the morning, when he's not yet exhausted and either crazy or cranky at the end of a long day.

Watching Le Tour and then the Olympics for the past several weeks, though, has left me yearning to train for a running race and/or get back into good cycling shape.  I feel less like a "runner" these days than simply "someone who runs."  Watching the women's Olympic marathoners collapse after crossing the finish line yesterday actually made me wistful.  It's been a very long time since I've been able to run long and hard enough to "leave it all on the road," and I miss it.

Perhaps my longing to train again is a good sign.  After all, when I asked Zdenek -- a former competitive swimmer -- whether watching the Olympic swimming events made him wish he could be back in the pool, he thought for about two seconds before replying, "Nope."  Yet, I countered, watching Le Tour does make you want to go for a bike ride, right?  He agreed.  It can only mean that he's spent too many years in the pool.  He had a finite number of laps in him, and they're spent.  The bike, on the other hand, is still relatively novel for him (and even more so for me).   When it comes to biking, we still have skills to master, times to improve, and, maybe, races to ride.

The fact that I miss running and cycling so much can only mean that, given the time and freedom once again, I will be back.  There are still a lot of miles left in me.  Perhaps I should be thankful that I'll have something to turn to when Ryder can't wait for me to get out the door.

More fun than a run

Summer is back with a vengeance in New York City, and, as if almost overnight, my head has become foggier and my runs have become slower. Cycling would definitely be le sport du jour these days, but, despite careful observation, I never really did learn how to fix a flat. I'm therefore a bit hesitant to head out in the Park on my own, lest I end up on East 90th with nothing but cycling clips on my feet to get me home in time to feed a crying baby (unfortunately, my day is still divided into 2.5-3 hour increments).

And so my little red Giant sits upon her wall mount, longing to be ridden again some time soon. Perhaps when Ryder hits the six month mark we'll hook him up in the Chariot (are babies supposed to wear helmets in those things?) to see whether he lives up to his namesake's affinity for fast moving bikes. Until then, I'm afraid that I'll have to play it safe and stick to 40-60 minute runs, close to home and with proper shoes on my feet.

But this Memorial Day weekend, the weather has been awfully hot and sticky, and our boy wants to seize the day -- every day -- beginning around 6 am. I'm struggling with fatigue, a pounding headache, and, truthfully, a desire to just drink a lot of beer. A run through soupy, 30-degree weather with only a few hours of sleep under my belt is not nearly as appetizing as the mild buzz earned after sitting peacefully in the shade with a brewsky in hand. And so that's basically what I've done this weekend: wheats, ales, lagers, and, today, some very strong Belgian brews. I know that more runs and less beer probably would have served me better over the long haul, but last summer, I sat salivating while Zdenek drank 10% Belgian ales or casually enjoyed a second bottle of Pilsner. Besides, I think they say that hops is good for your breast milk. Ryder certainly doesn't seem to mind.