If there was a time for a theme song or a personal jingle – this would be it. My first year of college is five weeks from completion, exams are creeping near, my husband is triathlon training, my toddler has nearly weaned, and Ottawa’s race is drawing closer. When my older children were younger and I was lost in the midst of obtaining a degree – people would ask me how I managed.
“That’s easy,” I’d reply. “I’m supermom.” You know; Faster than the loaded dishwasher, smarter than the average teddy bear, diaper pins up my sleeve and nary a runny nose in sight!
This was repeated so often in fact that the standard joke was my university graduation gown was suppose to be the supermom costume. Fate twisted that likelihood and I found myself rather obviously pregnant for my ceremony and try as I might, the tights wouldn’t fit.
Upon my return to school I searched the back of my metaphorical closet looking once again for my trusty supermom cape. It amazes me how much stubborn determination you can sap from a simple mindset. Running added fuel to that fire and still carries me through the chaos and clutter. Now when I feel the pre-test jitters, I hit the pavement; answering its call and seeking comfort in its grace.
Recently however, I seem to have lost my cape. The extra push that used to permit my all night studying or immaculately spotless house has dissipated into acceptance. I loved having my cake and eating it too. And although the cake is still in my possession, now instead of devouring it whole, I only take the occasional nibble. I have to say licking icing off my fingers is much more entertaining than suffering indigestion from eating the entire cake, candles and all.
Running has empowered me with the strength to let go, to realise that not all factors are intrinsic, or controllable. In a runners mind there is no perfect – there is only better, there is only next. Constant improvement as a goal buffers you against change; it carries you through ignorance. After all even a step taken towards your goal in which you tripped (on say a speed bump, lamppost, garbage bin, child’s forgotten toy, or EMPTY TIM HORTONS cup!) is still a step in the right direction. I remember reading once that it is important to be passionately aware that you could be completely wrong. This doesn’t make me feel like a failure, it just allows me the chance to appreciate my opportunity to try again – to be better.
For a few weeks before all of the above made sense in my mind, I went around my classes asking friends if they had seen my cape. After a number of contemplative runs, just me and my shoes and the banter of guides around me; I realised this too was part of growing up. I was seeking determination and strength from stubbornness – now my sources of inspiration stem from quiet moments lacing my shoes, from looks of pride in my children’s eyes and of course, from the love and support of my husband.
In my final stage of this superhero envy equation there was a moment the other day when I was asked if I’d located my cape yet. I explained that in my opinion, superheroes tended to be too destructive to their clothes (particularly those worn on top of their costumes, which always seem to be buttoned shirts). So in my efforts to save the button industry, I’ve halted all rescue attempts for my cape and tights; and instead I’m rescuing myself. As the cheesy saying goes, in order to make a dream come true, you must first have a dream. I’m living my dream one step at a time.
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