Running and Parenting


My feet hit the pavement,
My feet hit the floor.  
A distance, a time, a race, or simply a run,
A destination, an event, to school and to work, or simply a day at home.
High hopes of sunny skies and PRs,
Of being on time, harmony, hugs and kisses, love and kindness.
I start off strong, confident, excited, everything seems to be in sync.  
The rhythm of my breathing, the rhythm of my stride, fall into line.
Coffee brewing, school lunches made, children laughing through sleep filled eyes.
The wall comes, legs are heavy, breathing hard, it takes all I have to keep moving forward.
Kids are fighting, clock is ticking, voices rise, it takes all I have to keep moving forward.
During some runs, the rhythm returns, I conquer the wall.
Some days, I restore the peace, keep it together, I conquer the wall.
Some runs are all wall and no rhythm. I limp to the finish, but I don’t quit.
Some days are the same.  I’m pushed to the my limit.  I limp to the finish, but I don’t quit.
Love keeps me going.
I will run again tomorrow.
I will parent again tomorrow.


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