Most (week) days look like this:
6:00am – runner, dog caretaker
7:30am – mom, wife, rabble rouser, cheerleader, breakfast/lunch maker, coffee slugger, backpack monitor
8:15am – entrepreneur, volunteer
4:00pm – mom, homework monitor, chauffer
6:00pm – mom, wife, chef, wine/beer/tequila (?) connoisseur
8:00pm – mom, wife, reading specialist, unpopular toothbrush monitor
8:30pm – wife, entrepreneur
11:00pm – exhausted.
Bet it looks a lot like yours. Surely, in that regular daily schedule, there’s time just to be a girl, right? I guess on weekends, there’s a little time…oh wait, no, not really. That is when I add housecleaner, gardener, laundress, grocery budgeteer, Sunday School teacher and Thomas Keller wannabe to the list.
I’m not complaining. Really, truly. I’m blessed and lucky, and love these roles. It’s just that sometimes, I want to be nuthin’ but a girl.
And is it ever exciting to get to be nothin’ but a girl this weekend! Tonight, I’m so psyched to hang with some awesome Badass Mother Runners (more on that next week), then tomorrow it’s off to beautiful Lake Lanier for a weekend of ZOOMA! My BRF (best runner friend), the ever awesome Kimberley, and I are planning to hit the Expo, take a walk and then retire to our hotel room for robes, room service, a chick flick and a long night of sleep, each in a bed to ourself. Short of having someone show up to rub my feet before I go to sleep, is that not the very picture of girl luxury? Uh, yeah it is.
Then Sunday is the ZOOMA half marathon! Just the name makes me excited. ZOOOOOOMMMMAAAA! It’s a women’s racing series and we get a necklace rather than a medal, and a post-race party with wine (yay, wine!) and massages. And, it’s pretty flat, which is really saying something for Atlanta, and it’s mostly girls!
I’ve been sick for like, oh three weeks, so I’m not even approaching it as a race. I’m approaching it as a run. For girls. For fun. For no reason other than the fact that we spend 99% of our time being whatever our titles require of us, and for a couple of hours, we can enjoy being nuthin’ but a girl…who runs. For fun.