A simple truth

Post-Ryder, I've managed to stay pretty consistent about logging at least 25 miles per week, though I usually try to hit 30 if at all possible.  Last week, I actually made it to over 40 and, feeling pretty optimistic about my chances for organizing an even tighter schedule (that would likely entail 5 am runs, but what else can I do?), I thought seriously about attempting marathon training.

And then this week happened.  I'm not sure what kind of stomach illness sidelined our household (though I suspect it's rotavirus), but I've logged four miles so far and will probably plateau there.  While I'm no longer so sick that I'm begging Zdenek to shoot me (no lie), and while the word "hot dog" overheard on television is no longer likely to send me into a hurling episode, I still have no appetite, little energy, and a cranky baby.

With our nanny also out sick, I'm trying to focus on the positives: it's a beautiful autumn so far; Central Park has never been more breathtaking; and at least my kid smiles when I'm pushing him on the swings.  But I would be lying if I didn't admit to being green with envy watching the cyclists spin by, enjoying the perfect weather.  And this past Sunday I practically teared up watching the start of the NYC marathon on tv.  

I'm not sure what the silver lining is in all of this; frankly, I don't think there is one (I've tried to convince myself that it's been healthy to take a "break" from training, etc., but that psychology has worn thin).  The truth is that I do miss much of what I used to be able to do (as I am sure Zdenek does, too). Though I'm sure that, someday, I'll be able to find time and energy again for those pursuits, in the meantime, I just can't have it all.  Sometimes that's all there is to it.

Is that Desitin you're wearing?

It’s been a long time since I’ve had the time or energy to make a simple blog post. Between loads of travel, long hours at work, longer hours with Ryder, and fewer hours running, we are simply out of time most days (and nights). Last Saturday, though, Zdenek and I celebrated six years of wedded bliss. And when I say “bliss,” I truly mean it. The biggest downs we’ve experienced together involved descending a hill in Central Park during a bike ride or morning run.

On Saturday, Ryder gave us both the best anniversary present ever: a run. We haven’t strapped the little dude into his Chariot for some time, because the last few outings were so completely unenjoyable. He’d usually last 30 minutes -- max -- before screaming that it was time to get out, at which point I’d pick up the pace to get home as quickly as possible and Zdenek would start screaming that I was running too fast. But on Saturday morning, Zdenek and I tried our luck again, and I’m glad we did. The little dude is now a slightly bigger dude who seems quite happy to sit in his Chariot for a full sixty minutes, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of Central Park on a weekend morning. In fact, he was so good that we took him for another spin on Sunday, and it went just as smoothly. This weekend, we ran over 11 miles together as a family!

On Saturday evening, Zdenek and I went out for what constituted our first dinner out together -- alone -- since Ryder’s birth. After one too many cocktails, I cozied up to my husband in our booth, leaned over, and kissed his hand. And you know the best part? It didn’t even smell like Desitin.

Best anniversary present ever

Many cocktails later

Lame

It’s been an eventful few days around here. To start, I threw out my back last week. Aside from being extraordinarily uncomfortable and extremely inconvenient, this injury (likely caused by improper bending at the waist to pick up my chunky monkey of a son) brought into sharp relief the fact that I am, sadly, getting old. Back injuries?! Really? Aren’t those reserved for weight lifters and geriatrics?

After cabbing it to my doctor on Thursday to confirm that I did not, thankfully, slip a disk, I heeded the doctor’s advice to remain as active as possible, and shuffled home. Bent at an approximately 70 degree angle, it took me about 90 minutes to traverse 12 short New York City blocks, and I found myself impatient, tired, and incredulous at the fact that not a single person had stopped to ask me whether I was okay or needed help (though I was later reminded by Ryder’s nanny that, in NYC, such inquiries to total strangers are typically ill-advised). With about two blocks to go, I slipped inside a nail salon for an impromptu pedicure -- the only highlight in an otherwise painful and frustrating day.

I seem to be on the mend now, and was able to eek out a very slow three miles yesterday morning, and an equally slow four miles this morning. The humidity in New York seems to be abating, and this is the perfect running (shuffle?) weather. Unfortunately, on the same day that I injured my back, my poor Zdenek confirmed that he has suffered his second broken bone in both 2011 and his life. It seems that his quick dirt-biking jaunt with my seven year-old niece on our recent trip home did some serious damage when he was thrown to the pavement, and Zdenek must now contend with a fractured elbow for the next six weeks. On Thursday morning we sat together, relatively lame and unable to throw Ryder around in the style to which he’s now accustomed (in fact, I could barely pick the kid up until yesterday), and feeling like useless old horses waiting to be put out of their misery. And much to Zdenek’s chagrin, he can’t even fit his torn-up toes into his cycling shoes without experiencing severe pain. But at least he can run.

And so just as Zdenek and I are once again ready to feel the ground move beneath our feet, the ground actually did move beneath my feet today. Around 2 pm, high up in my 31st floor office, I experienced a “boom” and then a few, relatively big shakes of my office building. I was forced to evacuate via the stairs, every muscle in my lower back resonating on each step of the 31 flights that I had to descend.

It was later confirmed that an earthquake struck the East Coast today, and, to be honest, it was a pretty cool sensation. It was, however, something I’m in no hurry to experience again. Zdenek and I are getting old and lame. We need to be careful with every bend we make and every step we take. I don’t need any ground tremors complicating matters further.

One less thing to worry about

I am always happy to read stuff like this. Makes my lack of strength training seem not only harmless, but potentially even helpful. Thank goodness for new science.

Life in the fast lane

Last weekend, Zdenek and I packed Ryder, a travel crib, and two suitcases worth of bibs, diapers, onesies, rompers, and bottles, and we headed off with good friends to the Poconos in Pennsylvania. Departing NYC in our rental car at 4 pm on a Friday in the summer was a brave (stupid?) move, especially considering that it was in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave. Never mind: we strapped Ryder into his car seat, scattered a few teething toys around him, and hoped for the best.

Despite the heat, the boy handled things pretty well for the first 90 minutes or so. He played with his toys, stared out the window, and eventually dozed off for half an hour. But upon waking, he realized that (a) he was still restrained, (b) it was pretty close to his dinnertime, and (c) it was almost bed time. And that's when the screaming started. Mom and Dad, unaccustomed to traveling with Ryder in a car, didn't know what to do. We were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic across five lanes, and, according to the map feature on my iPhone, were pretty much going to stay that way for the next 40 minutes. So I headed into the backseat to distract my boy with silly sounds and peek-a-boo, which worked -- for a while. But when Ryder finally decided that he had really had enough (or rather, when we decided that we couldn't handle the screaming anymore), we had to make a quick turn-off to feed him and take a break. He was delighted. Then we strapped him in again, and he screamed the rest of the way to our destination.

I realize that most parents travel everywhere by car with their little ones, and screaming is probably par for the course. But for Zdenek, Ryder, and me, this was a pretty novel experience. I think I've figured out why: Ryder is rarely restrained for more than 15 minutes at a time, and when he is, he's got an impressive number of cars, people, dogs, trees, etc. to entertain him. We go everywhere by foot. He's out our door and at the store within 10 minutes. He's at the Park within 15, and then promptly put on the swing. He never, ever has to wait or sit patiently. For anything. I am sure that New Yorkers' impatience and short fuses are nurtured from birth.

I can only hope that Ryder's detest for sitting idle will some day translate into a super-energetic, over-achieving athleticism. Until then, my little Manhattanite will continue to live life in the fast lane from the comfort of his stroller.

Much to remember

Back in early January, when I wrote a group-wide email message to my colleagues announcing Ryder’s birth, one of my coworkers responded with a line that has stuck with me and that I remember almost every day: You will find that, once you have kids, time passes much more quickly.

During those early weeks of sleepless nights and pure exhaustion, time couldn’t pass quickly enough, and I wanted to roll my eyes at every well-meaning stranger who would tell me to “enjoy it because they grow up so fast.” Truth be told, Ryder really could have skipped those first 10-12 weeks altogether and I don’t think I would have minded much. But now that he’s a bit older and becoming exponentially more fun on an almost daily basis, I am starting to notice that time does indeed seem to be passing much too quickly. Over the last week, this realization was compounded by several anniversaries of various events in my life and those of whom I love most:

* Sixty-some-odd years ago this past week, my mother came into the world. Although Zdenek likes to tell me that I am the world’s greatest mom, I know that that title rightfully belongs to the extraordinary woman who raised me, and I miss her immensely across the miles.

* Thirty years ago this past week, Zdenek’s mother and father defected from their home in then-communist Czechoslovakia. It goes without saying that that bold move altered the course of history (or at least my own and that of Ryder, who would otherwise still be dark matter floating in the universe).

* Eight years ago this past week, Zdenek and I were introduced by a mutual friend at a bar on Toronto's Queen Street. Believe me when I say that I went home that night thinking that he might be “the one.”

* One year ago this past week, Zdenek and I flew to Canada to visit both of our parents and announce that there would soon be a new member in our family.

* Also one year ago this past week, I was still enjoying long bike rides and 10+ mile runs in Central Park on a weekly basis. (This past weekend, with Zdenek’s parents in town, I actually managed to cycle on both Saturday and Sunday -- the first time I’ve been on my little red Giant since March!) I remember racing around the Park feeling fantastic and finding it difficult to believe that there was actually another little person inside of me. Who would have thought that it would be easier to run 10 miles with him in than out?

Sometimes my friends without children ask whether I miss my “old life” or whether I think about having more kids. Of course I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that it would be nice to stay up until midnight knowing that I could sleep in until 10 am if I so desired, that I’d love to be able to leave the house after 7 pm to enjoy a stroll with Zdenek on a beautiful summer evening, or that I don’t stare wistfully at my bike and wonder when I’ll ever have the opportunity to go for a three hour ride again.

But I have to remember how quickly time has already passed, and that it certainly is not slowing down. It won’t be too much longer before I’ll look back and reminisce about the summer of 2011, when Ryder was just a little package of delicious baby and Zdenek and I were able to take him for stroller rides in Central Park and push him on the swings at Riverside Park. The next time I’m at mile 25 in a marathon and wondering, once again, what possessed me to subject myself to that kind of torture, I’m sure I’ll wish that time would pass more quickly. For now, I’ll try to remember to savor every moment.

New obsessions

We’re now a few days into July, which marks the beginning of both summer and le Tour. Alas, my days of being able to stay up until late, intensely focused on that day’s Stage, are behind me: while I’ve always been a pretty early-to-bed kind of girl, my attention span these days is markedly shorter than it ever was. It seems that if I am not actually doing something with Ryder (i.e. holding, hugging, kissing, changing, feeding, cleaning, etc.), then I am always thinking about him or how to care for him. After a few minutes of cycling action on tv (and yes, we’re in high def this year), I find myself inexplicably drawn to the plethora of baby-related books and manuals on my coffee table. Recently we started Ryder on solids (avocados, bananas, oatmeal, and watermelon are all huge hits so far -- clearly he’s my boy!), and so while I’ve just finished learning everything I need to know about baby sleep patterns and developmental milestones, I’m suddenly having to learn all about making and freezing homemade baby food and just how much iron my little guy actually needs in a day.

Ryder clearly rules our roost. I’m sure (or at least I hope!) that it’s a first-time parent thing, but too often I catch Zdenek and me having a conversation at the dinner table that might go something like this:

Parent 1: Do you think his second nap was long enough today?
Parent 2: Maybe, but then he also had that short catnap in the morning, don’t forget.
Parent 1: Right. Maybe we shouldn’t have taken him out in the stroller at
that time...
Parent 2: Perhaps. But how many hours of sleep did he get
yesterday?
Parent 1: Let me check the log.

And so on.

In fact, this past weekend, I managed to detach for a minute and listen to Zdenek and me, and it was obvious that we are both (a) obsessed, and (b) completely boring.

It’s therefore nice to know that we have at least a few other things in our lives that are completely unrelated to Ryder. For one, I’m still running 4-6 times each week (Ryder could be related to this if he so desired, but he’s made his dislike for the running stroller pretty apparent), and though the miles are short, they are always sweet. Zdenek has recently been getting back into the habit of crawling out of bed at 5:30 am to take his bike for a spin in Central Park; I’m happy he’s doing this, because running is a bit tough for him in the sticky summertime. And when we were watching le Tour a couple of nights ago, we did manage to have a conversation that had nothing at all to do with Ryder -- namely, we discussed whether Garmin-Cervelo had anyone worthy in the GC and debated whether Team Radioshack is full of dopers (I say “yes”). (Let’s forget, for the moment, that Ryder is actually named after a member of Team Garmin…)

I’m really, really looking forward to the day that Ryder is a bit older and he can run and cycle with us. To be sure, there are many times that I want to stop time altogether and savor every morsel of his adorable six-month self, and when it makes me want to cry to think how quickly he’s already growing up. But once he’s able to share the fun of running and cycling with us, maybe Zdenek and I will be able to spend a little less time talking about Ryder and more time engaged with him in the activities we love.

There will come a day when the only Ryder-related log will be the one tracking his daily miles. I’m sure of it.