After two and a half days as an awesome kick-A running runner chick during the Wasatch Back, I returned to my Mother in law's house, my children and my identity as a mother of three.
Picture this; three young children who've spent two weeks away from their home and their beds, plus two days and three nights away form their mother. Now, put those children in the bath tub and attempt to ready them and yourself for church. Sounds fun, no?
The crazy amount of longing for them I'd been collecting in my bosom over the previous days supplied me with the patience to get through it...almost. There was some screaming on my part toward the end of the ordeal when the New one would not tolerate being put down and Enzo refused to hold still while I put his shoes on.
The race was fantastic. I'm planning to write a sort of boring analysis of my running performance for those of you who are interested in that sort of thing, but for now I'll just share with you the things I learned over the course of the weekend.
I really honestly love to run.
Running hills is exhilarating.
I'm stronger than I thought I was.
I can do better.
I am sorely tempted to run the Las Vegas Ragnar in October.
I can do hard things.