Once Upon a Time…

I ran a marathon. I took just over 5 hours, an excruciatingly long time, but I did it. I’ve actually begun training for a marathon 5 times, but only run one. Every time I get up around a 10 mile long run I get pregnant. The one time I actually got to it I had a nursing baby at home. Yes, five hours of running is long. Yes, I’m slow, but in my own defense, it’s hard to train when you have to stop to check on/feed the baby every hour or so, and I did stop for half an hour to nurse #4 at mile 12.

Marathons start really early in the morning. Insanely early. I had to be there at just after 5. That’s AM. I got up at the crack of 4:00, nursed the baby, put on my running shoes and my jog bra that looks like a bullet-proof vest and drove myself downtown. It was cold; it was early. Did I mention that it was cold?

By the time the starter’s gun sounded, my boobs were telling me that I had somehow forgotten to feed the baby. By mile 5, they were really hurting. By mile 9 they were starting to come over the top of the corset-like undergarment I was wearing.

At mile 10, I spotted a college-age kid wearing the orange vest of a race volunteer, the poor guy. I grabbed my new best friend by the shoulders and asked if he had a cell phone. (Dumb question, I know. When does a college guy not have a cell phone?)

“Can you call my husband and tell him to meet me at mile 12?”

“Sure. Should I give him a reason?”

“Tell him my boobs are about to explode.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone turn that shade of red before.

God bless him, he called the Computer Guy and had a conversation that began something like “Sir, let me just apologize first for even talking about your wife’s breasts..” I think that kid is in therapy somewhere, bless his heart.

At mile 12 I fed the baby. Ahhhhh…sweet relief. I’m surprised that she didn’t drown. I hiked up my shirt and paced while nursing her. My sweet husband tried to protect my modesty by throwing a blanket over us. No thanks. The last thing I want after running and while holding a warm baby is to have another layer of heat added. So he tried to walk in front of us and shield us from view by holding the blanket up like a freakin’ matador. I finally swatted him out of the way and said something completely charming like “Get out of my way! Do you have any idea how many bare a**es I have seen this morning? Somehow I don’t think a baby attached to my boob is going to offend anyone!” He sat down and let me pace and flash everyone around us. They didn’t even glance in my direction. (I hate to gloat and say I’m right, but….)

I loved it, the marathon. I would have loved to even more to be a 4 hour finisher. Someday I will run it again, but here’s what I learned from my marathon experience:
1. If your shoes don’t fit right you will lose toenails
2. Running will not make you skinny. I ran a Marathon and didn’t lose a single pound! How is that fair? Chubby girl trains for months and runs 26+ miles at the end of it and weighs exactly what she did when she started! Don’t tell me that stuff about muscle weighs more than fat. My jeans still fit the same.
3. Even the most jaded college boy can be made uncomfortable by the thought of breastfeeding.

The End