My blog has become less about mommy-ness and cooking and books and more about RUNNING!? How the hell did that happen?
But these days, for whatever godforsaken reason, running occupies a great deal of my thoughts. I suppose it could be worse, it could be something sordid like The Bold and the Beautiful. So running, it is.
So let me be honest. I am pretty sure the reason so much attention is being paid to running at the moment is because it is my little escape. And a mother needs those. Which is why, last week, I attended an art class and made a shabby chic wall hanging for my daughter's room. It was fun. I toddled off with a half jack of Whiskey and a cooler box filled with ice. Baby asleep - sort of. Toddler due home from my aunt any minute. But I almost flew into the class I was so excited. I loved getting creative again and feeling as though there was something more to me than breast milk and midday naps. BUT - and this is a big BUT. I had very little in common with the other ladies who also did the course. Admittedly, we had only just met so that statement is hugely presumptuous, BUT on the surface, we had nothing much to chat about other than our children, our husbands, our in-laws and our love of wine.
I can usually talk to anyone. Having taught at all levels of the financial and academic spectrum, I have been exposed to many different kinds of people. I have also spent a huge amount of time with my nose in books, which means I know a lot about a lot. But these women were a few years older, a fair bit closer and generally let out of the house more than once in seven months. (Shameful, I know.)
Then their boards were all greys, beiges, creams and naturals. Mine, being for the toddler's bedroom, was shocking pink and lime green. I think they thought I was a bit whack. In fact, I was beginning to think I was a bit whack since I was so quiet. I felt like an introvert! Worse! I felt like a boring, frumpy, not-quite-sure-where-I-fit-in introvert.
Until someone said something about trying to fit in a run.
Immediately, I was hot on the topic. Because, hey! I am a runner now! It was just the crack in the door I needed and whether it was the whiskey kicking in, or the suddenly found common running ground, but after that I couldn't shut up.
This lady, lets call her "Sue", had been for a run in a pretty, safe, country in Europe. So there were two openings for me: running and Europe. And I was off. Like a sprinter in the blocks when the gun fires, I hit the ground running. About running, Europe, traveling, "Oh! Did I mention I've written a book?", more traveling, more about me. But ultimately it was that one point that opened the conversation. I was ever so thankful that I had it - I knew what it felt like to 'need a run!' I knew what it felt like to 'escape it all!' I was one of them! And after all this time of being 'one of them (a Mother,)' I was now a member of a new 'one of them' group.
|My Shabby Chic board - finished :)|
Unfortunately, I think I spoke a little too much. When I looked again, everyone else was done with their boards and taking photographs of them for the teacher's website... and mine wasn't done. Also, I realised that while these ladies knew a lot about me, I hadn't stopped talking for long enough to find out a lot about any one of them. Do you always have to over share? I chided myself on my way home. But you didn’t over share, you just spoke a lot! My inner voice replies. Oh crumbs! They’re all going to go home and tell their families they met some weird woman who wouldn't shut up! The whiskey drinker pipes up. I have a rather restless night with all these marring voices.
By the time I was home from my run the next morning, I was over it. Maybe I did talk too much. Maybe they didn’t talk enough. Maybe I do share too much. Maybe they don’t share enough. Maybe I made a few new friends and the next art class will reveal more common ground. Maybe there wont be another art class for me. Whatever happens - the next morning I put on my takkies, went for a run, listened to some killer tunes and sweat a fair deal. I found the hill near my house a little deadly and the flat near my friend's house quite cushy. Sue probably did the same, or something similar. And in that way, we share a new leveler. And unlike death and taxes, this is one leveler I like to talk about.