The Ten Things...About Being 35 and a Mother Runner

Disclaimer - For those of you who are 40+: You have every right to say all that I write below is wrong. You've been here, you know. Those of you who are -30: You have no right to say all that I write below is right. You'll get here, but you don't know yet. Everybody in the sweet spot (for this article only, we are all of course spot on sweet, in general) of 30-40, nod along and tell me I am not alone. 

At first glance this is simply how my name appears in a list of race results. 

Sara W. - F  35 - 49:46 

As most runners, my birthday this year (6 months ago, in December) was a marque year. It was so because I was moving up into a new "age bracket". Gone were the runs of 30-34 and into 35-39 I went. My first "new category" run was in February, two months into my "new age". I was kind of excited and even took a picture of my bib marking the glaring new '35' for all to see. 

But heres the thing about rising in age brackets in running: You may think "well if you went up a bracket you must really be able to smoke the crowd now". Negative ghost runner. Those who are still along for the race - are pretty damn good. Think about it - if you're still on this road battling aches and injuries than you must love this. And love often equals good-at. For the most part you stay where you were and don't all of sudden put in top 10 finishes. It's not like you plopped into this category with the legs of a 20 year old - you got older too, remember? 

Ok - back to my point: Sara W. - F  35 - 49:46. I keep looking at that and after six months of 35 year old running - all I see now is F35. As in Eff 35 or to put it even more clearly; F*ck 35. Yup. I have had some hardships in my life and family and in the deep end I take NO birthday for granted, but in the shallow end of the pool - this particular age has hit me rather hard. And here are a few - ok ten - reasons why:

1. I joined a gym and gained weight. I was never a gym person. I blame the fact that I played organized sports my whole childhood through college, so I never had time nor needed to go to the gym. While other 20 year olds were getting their stairstepper on and familiarizing themselves with gymetiquette, I was getting ridiculed for stinky shin guards in the dorm and Bending it like Beckham (ok, not really the second, that is really hard to do, but the first is true - they even got thrown out once by a really pissed off hallmate). Yet at 34 and 3/4 months, I decided my workout needed an upgrade (and my hamstrings needed relief from pushing a double stroller) so I joined a gym. I was working out more than my previous months and adding more variety - but I gained weight. 

At first, I thought maybe it was the fact that not all hours I was at the gym were being spent working out, exactly. They do have a nice locker room, ladies mat area, and high top tables... I may have added in some chat time instead of squat time. A second guess was that because I my body joined a gym my brain thought we joined an all you can eat club with it. Both may have resulted in a few of the l-b's I put on - but not all of them. 

The real culprit, I swear, was the change in metabolism. I've never been the biggest or smallest chick in a room; I am pretty darn average (short sure, but average weight). I also ate whatever I wanted whenever wanted. I knew I could have eaten less or better and been skinier but I always thought why bother? I workout and I am skinny enough and definitely strong - so it's all good. Well hello 35. Instantly I can't eat what I want when I want it. I finally understand why people glared at me on me on my third piece of cake at a kids birthday party. I used to just eat it and run it off. Now that cake just sits on my ass saying hello to it's muffin friends. Ugh, I have to actually watch what I eat. I am not going to go so far as to say diet yet because I hate that word - but watch sure. It's like a storm - we're at a "diet watch" level hoping not to have to increase it to a "diet warning". F35. 

2. I am sore as hell most of the time. I know 'they' say you should enjoy a runners high and workout endorphin's and I totally believe it and do enjoy it. But now, at 35, I just don't enjoy them for long. You better get your kite flying "high" within 2 hours of your wod (workout of the day) or else it's just going to get the wind taken out of it's sail and head straight into Sore Town, population; F35. 

3. FaceTime has nothing to do with my phone. I know, moisturizing is supposed to be the most important part of women's beauty regime, but I just didn't believe it until 35. Now, FaceTime is me staring in the mirror wondering why I have wrinkles and reworking my phace-pharma products monthly. I used to give a crap about what I washed my face with - in highschool. I spent a lot of money, earned at the donut shop or cafe, on everything Clinque had to offer. I had many products and used them every morning and night. Then I hit my 20s and didn't need it. From 30-35 I was too busy not sleeping with small babies to even look let alone wash my face. So here I am Facetimeing with a 35 year old face. And it doesn't look so hot. From the wrinkles to the sweat-induced breakouts, it's just not ok. Enter, Lancome. Lancome! How old am I? F35.

4. You're Fast...For a Mom. Didn't I just get finished writing about "running like a girl"? Now we have to defend running like a mom, too? I am, admittedly, a little "cake and eat it too" on this topic... 

On the one hand I want to shout that just because I am a Mom does not mean that I can't run, lift, spin, sweat, drink, have fun, look sexy, be cute, go on dates, be stylish, enjoy a book or movie, have my own interests, have a life outside of husband, kids, PTA, and extra curriculars that aren't mine, etc. 

But on the other hand when I am kicking butt and I am not pushing my stroller to make it obvious that I am, in fact, a mother... I want to lift my shirt up and yell and "these abs held two babies, too"! I want the credit for being a Mom when it's a positive impressive aspect - I do not want to be let off the hook for being a mom. Make sense? Ok great. 

Oh, what does this have to be with being 35? Because I feel like the newness of being a Mom has worn off and the gritty sometimes unpleasant reality of the title and it's negative stereotype (think Mom, then think jeans...bingo that's what I mean.) has set in. Don't get me wrong; I love being a mom more than anything - but I don't want it to become an excuse to not be good at working out I want it to be a reason to work out. It seems at 35 I have to push through the thought of settling into the first (excuse not to work) and I must really strive hard for the later (reason to work) more and more often. F35.

5. I have a 'Use It Or Lose It' Fear. It's not that I don't take days off from working out - I do - but I am terrified to take too much time from doing any of the workouts I do for the fear of not being able to do it one day. Seriously? This is the mind of a octogenarian and totally premature but the tiny little thought does creep into my head. A few days my daughter asked why I wasn't running today, I replied that it was my rest day. She shot back, "Oh so if don't run then you're not a runner anymore". For some reason this sentence "you're not a runner anymore" freaked me right on out. I passionately (and I mean, with passion) explained how runners need rest days to give their bodies time to recover and do their best on another day. Did I mentioned she's five? If we haven't eaten chicken nuggets in three days we might as well have become vegan. Use it or Lose It, baby. F35.

6. I get a tweak a week. Much like feeling sore almost always, I also "tweak" something rather often. I stopped even saying what has a tweak here or there because they are so frequent it just sounds like a lie. And it very well may be - I think I am just used to thinking things hurt. I used to be the type of soccer played who if I was down for more than a few seconds you knew something was very wrong. Now, I can't keep enough ice in freezer. I may even start spraying Windex on stuff as a extra precaution ala Big Fat Greek Wedding. Seriously? F35.

7. My hair has highlights. I have super dark brown hair. Or at least I used to. I have a lot of grays now - that I color of course. But since running all spring and summer in the sun I have noticed that my usual dark brown dye is creating a super red/orange 'highlights'. It's totally the grays that aren't taking the dark brown hue. It doesn't look bad but it's a like a grab bag every time I buy color now. I don't even look that hard to find the one I like because depending on which grays wants to pop in and say hello and how much run-sun I get - I just get what you get and don't get upset. F35.

8. I have a uniform. This is not so much 35 but more-so being a stay at home mom. I have a uniform as a SAHM and it is capri tights, tank top and either sneakers or flip flops. It is a uniform I rarely take off and when I do my daughter inevitably notices within minutes and responds with "why do you look so beautiful?" Awe thanks, sweetie. Wait, what do you mean by that? F35.

9. Are you still running? I can't tell you how many times I have been asked this since turning 35. Two things bother me about it. 1. Do I not look like I still run? Jeepers, thanks for putting the not so subtle thought in my head that says I look like maybe I've been running to Dunkin Donuts everyday. (A few days, totally yes, who wouldn't?). 2. Should I not be running anymore? When I was pregnant people strongly suggested that once I had kid(s) I wouldn't be able to play soccer anymore. And guess what? That came true. It's not so much that I can't but that I literally don't have the time since I need to coordinate that sport with several other people and to my knowledge they haven't made a soccer stroller yet (whoa, lightbulb). When you ask me if I am still running, now that I am 35, part of me, a tiny part, thinks that maybe your saying I should quit. That it's time to stop the games. I am not going to stop - but that little thought is there. Strongly dislike this question if you can't tell... F35.

10. I think about 36 a lot. And realize 35 is not so bad and I go for a run. 

@runliferunlove