Thursday, December 13, 2012

I used to be...

I used to be a SAHM.

I stayed at home, and baked and cooked and sewed buttons on things and went to my fitness classes and organized playgroups... and then I met a runner.... and then I was a SAHM who ran miles and miles and marathons...

and then...

I was a STUDENT ATHLETE (HOTT) MOM who ran marathons... I'm a pretty solid student again... it's a nice feeling to have that back... a TriLaughAlete Mom of 3... A Single Mom of 3... A Stressed-Alot-HolyCARP-Mom of 3...


So now I'm a BOMB... B*tch On Mountain Bike, and seriously, I kinda just made that up on the fly, and I seriously kinda love it...

BOMB level 2... of 10. lame

I'm a terrible B*tch. Not sure I'm bitchy enough to qualify at any level. I'm way too sweet most of the time, slightly naive about the world much of the time, ever hopeful all of the time...

I'm not much of a mtb chic either. I lack  the mad skillz. I'm not gba just yet.

Regardless, I went on a solo ride to try out some new trails on my sweet whip.

If you like something enough to do it completely alone, it kinda says something about the interest in getting better... don't you think? I do.

Though, I might have gone alone because my training plan says I needed some high quality cross training today.

Cross training should always be this fun.

And it was fun. Fun like running alone is fun... maybe you have to be a runner to get that statement in it's wholeness.

Today as I was crashing through the trails.. er, literally... on a borrowed 'not quite mine yet' 29er, I decided to stop with the labeling. I might be a lot of things, but why limit myself?

For every nonsense label I've thought up, I've yet to think up 201 more appropriate ones.

I'm whatever I am in the moment. No label of "neurotic mom of 3" is going to come close to touching on the me that I am.

Besides, at the core of it all,

I'm a runner...

and runners are weird.

3 comments:

Alex said...

Great post! Hope all is well!

Michelle Dragoo said...

you are so lucky to be a stay at home Mom...

bobbi said...

you are un-label-able, my friend. savor, both your run and your bomb-ness...