when 3 miles feels like 30

"I haven’t run more than 2 miles since the beginning of my pregnancy. Running has always been my outlet, my therapy, and my thing I do just for me, and I have felt something missing without it in my life for so long. If pregnancy and motherhood have taught me one thing, though, it is to listen to my body, and my body has told me, up until recently, to go easy. My run today was transformative; this was a distance that in a past life I would have run without hesitation and I barely made it today. I allowed people to pass me who in the past I would have sped by without a thought. Working through the voice in my head that told me “you’ve really lost it” allowed me to appreciate this body for all it has done—the 18 hours of labor and the miles walked carrying my sweet boy. It feels great to be back, and an honor to run for the incredible place where my son was born and where I learned what it means to be a doctor"

This was written a few weeks back and posted on instagram by my ESP sister; she's the one who calls me as I'm picking up the phone to dial her number. This woman has been a supportive and loving force for more than half my life. She seems to always find the balance in every situation, and both sides to every story. Her ability to have perspective and assurance has always reminded me that there can be calm in any situation. After the birth of her son, we have found new layers and levels in our relationship, bonding over the roller coaster that is the first year of parenthood, and the intensity of emotions we feel about our bodies.

The overwhelming discussion I've been having lately with other mothers, both with young and older kids is the physicality that comes with motherhood. The literal physical strength it takes to care for both children and one's self. Yes, exhaustion makes us shy away from putting out extra energy, but it is also ego that holds us back from going to that yoga class, getting on the elliptical, running in the race anyway, despite the fact that we 'wont be as good. ' How do we let go of shame, the old self, an expectation that the body can't possibly hope to achieve in the first 'go'? How do we love today's body and the internal transformation that occurs through the rebuilding of a post partum body?

Through the sharing of our fellow baby-carried bodied parent, friend, celebrity, stranger, can we remind ourselves to love and appreciate that body that got us here, that brought life, that feeds the soul of our unconscious?

As my kids get bigger, I find myself taking work out classes and becoming conscious about the way that I sit and stand and carry myself, as I root out the sticky parts and awaken my ability to stay present in each moment. I hear my internal voice saying " you better go take that class because you need the strength to carry two toddlers up a flight of stairs." How different from the previous calling to "have well defined abs." Hey, if that happens, great, but I want to ensure that I'm not throwing out my back as I carry one kid on my hip and another on my shoulders with the diaper bag on my back.

Priorities shift, the utility of the body takes center stage, and my desire for my body to facilitate my life whether it be with my kids, or so that I can find mental clarity and release of stagnant thoughts and attitudes.

Last week we smiled. This week we walk. We lift the six bags of groceries, evenly between both arms, we take that cleansing breath: in and out.

Breath in, I am.

Breath out, Strong.

Breath in, I am.

Breath out, Capable

Breath in, I am.

Breath out, Today.