Ultra

So, I was skimming through the news online and I came across this clip about an Ultra-marathoner.  For those of you who know me, I have recently developed an affinity for running.  I will run at any time of the day, and in most weather including snow, but I prefer late afternoon when there is a breeze and it isn't blistering hot or freezing cold.  Ok, so that is NEVER the case in my neck of the woods, so, I have to settle for dusk when D is home from school so he can watch the babies.  And I run.  It feels so good.  Almost like drinking an energy drink, only better and without the crashing part afterward.   But, so, back to this Ultra-marathoner.  This particular lady is training to run 130 miles.  Nonstop.  One.hundred.thirty miles.  I thought it was a mistake.  But it's not and she's doing it.  With one leg.  She lost her other leg in a crash.  One leg.  She is a single mom and an Ultra-marathoner. 

Now, I'm not even close to running a real marathon, although I've set my goals, but I am, most definitely, an Ultra-mom.  And I kinda like it.  I'm growing into my position, through much difficulty learning patience, and finding that I cherish my mornings when I can stare at my little babies sleeping, snoring and making smacking sounds with their pudgy little lips.  I enjoy playing baseball and basketball with my little boy and running with him.  He is very much the runner now and he wears his special shoes every time.

They are watersocks.  Meant for wearing while you go swimming...not running.  But he doesn't care.  He thinks they make him run faster and he demonstrates his super speed for me every time before we set off together.  Of course, I bring the stroller because he's tired by the time we reach the next light pole but it's priceless.  He is so earnest, "Mahm, wess go wunning!"

And I enjoy making faces with my little girl, touching noses, munching on her soft little ears and humming together.  She and I sing together.  Our own little songs and she'll dance.  Her chubby little feet slapping on the wood floors.  We chase each other around the house and laugh and hide and scream.  That's the other thing we do.  We'll stand in the kitchen and shrill back and forth until one of us giggles.  

  Now, I may only have two children, so I might not be amongst the highest ranks of Ultra-momness but I've earned a few medals.  Like, the one where I stayed up 23 hours straight two days after giving birth to my precious little Romalise.  I was nursing everyone in the house back to health from a nasty flu.  And the one where I was getting up every hour, on the hour changing off between a screaming toddler and a screaming baby, and D...my wonderful D sleeping through this whole mess of a night.  And yes, I did make breakfast in the morning.  So, no, I can't run 130 miles, but I can clean up splattered poop, puke and food faster than you've ever seen.  I can stay up nursing my family back to health and clean the whole house the next day.  I can make dinner, kiss boo-boos, wipe away tears, sing, smile and love...

I'm an Ultra-mom.  And I know I'm not alone.