At times, I wish I could stomp on Jiminy Cricket
This post should be a race report. Key words there: should be.
As I’ve mentioned before, my husband currently works nights and has for several months now. To avoid royally screwing up his body, he keeps his sleeping schedule the same throughout the weekend (ie: on his days off). When I have a race, he is forced to go on little or no sleep at all. Because our boys are too young to watch themselves, he has to either accompany me to watch the boys while I run or stay home to watch the boys while I run. He has always chosen to accompany me because he enjoys being there to cheer me on and to take pictures of/for me.
*side note: I realize I could race with the boys in the BOB but,while most do, not every race allows joggers. Also, I’m very competitive and, selfishly, I’d rather race solo because I’m too slow w/ both boys in the BOB. One day I may be fast enough with the jogger but that’s definitely not now.*
I’m not going to lie, I had been battling with myself over this race for several days leading up to it. Not because I did not think I could do it but because it would have meant sacrifices would have to be made. This would have been my first 10K race but, I’ve covered that distance many times in the last few months during my half marathon training so, I wasn’t worried I wouldn’t be able to finish the race. I was stewing over things because going would have meant getting up at an ungodly hour. It would have meant screwing up my sons’ sleeping and they have more than enough trouble in that department on their own. It would have meant making my husband go with very little or no sleep. And, it would have meant the third weekend in a row of doing all of the above. Well, most of the above.
During supper on Friday night, I told my husband I was having second thoughts about going to the race. He understood my conflicted position and made a comment that he would not be terribly upset if I ultimately decided to skip it, even though I had already paid for my registration. He also made a comment about the subsequent racing really screwing with him (his sleep) and that made me feel extremely guilty. Still, I couldn’t seem to come to a decision.
After the kids were tucked in bed, I was still trying to make a decision as the minutes ticked by. I remembered something someone told me on DM in the past about never regretting a race/run but always regretting not doing it. That was it! I finally knew I couldn’t skip it because I knew I would regret it if I did. I told my husband I planned on going and got to work at getting everything ready and organized. It’s much easier to get everyone out of the door on time when everything is packed up the night before. You’re also guaranteed not to forget key items if they’re packed up the night before, as long as you don’t forget about packing them. 😉
After I watched a couple of shows that were recorded earlier in the week on our DVR, I hit the hay hoping to get as much sleep as I could. I’m not sure what time it was, but I awoke to my youngest screaming. My husband got him, brought him into the tv room, and the screaming continued. And continued. And it continued. After a couple of minutes, I got up to see what was going on. He’d been having bouts of being inconsolable lately in the middle of the night and I figured I might be able to help stop the screaming. Not only was my sleep being disturbed but I could imagine my poor three-year-old putting his head under his pillow as his younger brother continued with his screaming fit. They share a room so, when it starts, there’s no escape. I got to the tv room and found my poor husband trying to hold onto a flailing toddler with one arm while attempting to block his bad ear with the other. I debated for a second whether it would piss my husband off if I took the baby and brought him to bed with me. I figured such an action may make him feel like I didn’t think he could handle it on his own. I quickly shot that idea out of mind because I knew getting him to stop screaming was the priority and it didn’t really matter how we got it to happen. He screamed the entire walk to the bedroom but, as soon as I put him down on my bed, he shut up. *raises eyebrow* Really? In my half asleep state, I quickly got him positioned, covered him up, and settled myself in for a little more shut-eye.
An hour or two later, my husband came into the bedroom ready to hit the hay as well. He attempted to move the baby back to his own bed but he wanted nothing of it. I swear, we’re creating and enabling a monster. Anyhow, so the three of us snuggled in and went to sleep. I had two alarms set. One for 4:00am and the other for 5 minutes later just in case. I woke up on my own and was surprised it was so close to wake-up time. The clock read 3:47. I looked over at the
bed hog baby who was nestled between me and my husband in a star fish position and I decided I would attempt to move him into his own bed so that I wouldn’t wake him while I got ready. After I tucked him into his own bed, I just stood in the darkness of the hallway for a minute with a million thoughts going through my head. I came up with excuse after excuse, all of which were lies, that would be acceptable to others for potentially skipping the race. Kids were sick. I was sick. Rough night with the kids. You get the picture. I stood there, fighting back and forth with myself for what seemed like forever before I finally made my way back to bed. I just sat there, still debating, wondering what I was going to do. I looked over at my sleeping husband and I really didn’t want to disturb his sleep. My guilt meter was on overload. A part of me wanted to get things moving and get to the race. However, a bigger part of me wanted to relish in the peacefulness and get a little extra shut-eye with my husband by my side; something that doesn’t happen often with his current work schedule. That bigger part of me wanted to give my husband and my kids a break from the racing scene and let them get the sleep they no doubt needed. That bigger part of me also couldn’t see past the guilt of wanting to selfishly say “screw ’em, they can nap later”. I was going to be the cause, yet again, of a sleepless night day for my husband and disturbed sleep for my kids. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put them through it for the third weekend in a row. Those of you that are mothers may understand the mommy guilt part of the equation here. Once that gets a hold of you, you’re screwed.
No amount of potential regret mattered anymore. I disabled the alarms, got online to send Steve (he was going to carpool to the race start) a quick note telling him I wasn’t going, and crawled back into bed. I woke my husband to tell him we were staying home. I’m sure he was relieved to hear it through the fogginess of sleep. I also figured if he wanted to get up for a couple of hours and sleep longer throughout the day, he could take advantage of the opportunity, but he went back to sleep. It took a little longer than I would have liked for me to find sleep again as thoughts and feelings of guilt & regret swirled throughout my entire being. I’m not sure how long it took but sleep finally engulfed me and I was off to Dreamland until
my alarm clock one of the kids got up for the day.
To be honest, once a few hours had passed, I still felt a bit of regret for having missed the race. However, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. The negative feelings were gone in no time and that right there tells me that I made the right decision. It wasn’t like when I missed the St Paddy’s Day 5K. I was truly heartbroken and angry that I missed that one. Of course, the circumstances surrounding the reasons why I missed both races are very different. I guess I figured missing a race is missing a race and one would feel the same thing in the aftermath no matter what. Clearly, that’s not the case.
So that’s what happened. After being super busy for the last few weeks, it was nice to have a low-key/closer to normal weekend as a family. 🙂