If you’re new here (and you are, since this is only the third post on this blog), let me very rapidly catch you up: I was in the midst of training to qualify for the Boston Marathon, the day before a benchmark half marathon race, when I found out I was pregnant. (If you want allllll the details of that wild experience, you can find them here.)
What followed that half marathon was an endless amount of questions that really had no answers, but all led back to one thought:
What happens when a goal you’ve been chasing suddenly, and without warning, gets put on pause?
On the drive home from that half marathon, while eating a double order of french toast sticks from Sonic, I told both Anthony (my husband) and Alex (my friend and run coach) that there was absolutely no way I’d be running the marathon I was signed up for in 5 weeks.
The half was miserable enough- At that moment, I couldn’t even fathom having to run double that.
To their point, however, I had missed the deferral period by just three days, so there was no chance I’d get the race entry fee back. And I could cancel the AirBnb we had booked until race week and still get a full refund. So there really wasn’t any reason to jump to a decision quickly. I had time.
The weeks that followed were full of every emotion possible: joy, fear, confusion, some panic, and excitement all tangled together. Only looking back on it now am I able to accurately sum up the true emotion that lay beneath all the rest during those weeks between the half and full marathon.
Grief.
Throughout pregnancy, we slowly ‘lose’ certain things — what clothes fit, the ability to put on socks, do yoga, or move the way we used to. But running, really running, was gone even before I knew I was pregnant. (I’d been having bad speed workouts for weeks, I just now knew why.)
I can’t wait to dive more into this in another post, but for now, I just want to acknowledge that it’s not only possible, but it’s okay, to feel both thrilled for the future and grieve the life you’re leaving behind.
What got me through every tough workout was imagining myself crossing the finish line and qualifying for Boston. And while I’m beyond grateful for how easily I was able to get pregnant — something I know is a gift — it didn’t change the fact that I had set a goal I could no longer actively pursue.
While I changed my mind hundreds of times over the next weeks on if I actually was going to run the marathon or not, the option of hitting my original goal of a 3:30 marathon was eliminated immediately.
The goals evolved both quickly and slowly. It didn’t take long to realize I wouldn’t be able to hit the tempo or speed workout paces I could before. The new challenge became shifting my mindset — to one of gratitude just to feel well enough in the first trimester to be running at all; to staying active even on the emotionally messy days; to honoring my body and truly listening to what it needed.
For someone who’s so competitive and gets tunnel-vision when chasing goals, the shift away from a BQ wasn’t easy. But realistically, I got my first lesson in parenting:
Flexibility is a form of strength.
And truthfully, I think being forced to learn that made me a better runner.
Some seasons are about PRs and time goals and pushing your body to find out what you’re mentally and physically capable of. And other seasons are about just showing up and doing your best, no matter what that looks like.
There’s freedom in walking up to a start line with no expectations, and maybe it’s something we all need to do a little more often to help us all remember why we started running and racing in the first place: because it’s fun.
It’s fun, and success extends far beyond just time goals. Success in running, at least for me, means going to races with friends, traveling to new places, learning more about who I am. And yes, success can also extend to PRs and hitting time goals. But it’s not a bad reminder that most of the time, success is just getting to the start line and enjoying the ability to run, no matter how fast or slow.
With the help of a friend, a new vision took shape: in this version, I’m still crossing the finish line and qualifying for Boston — but waiting for me at that finish line is my son or daughter, witnessing me achieve a goal I’ve chased for years.
They got the gift of growing up with a mom who showed them how to work hard, set goals, overcome setbacks and achieve goals, all while raising a family.
Getting pregnant and having kids doesn’t mean my goals will never happen. It might be more challenging to reach them and will definitely take some more time to achieve them, but what I’ve learned already is that goals and dreams don’t die when kids enter the picture.
They change and grow and evolve, and we just evolve with them.
If you’re like me and your path looks a little different than you thought it would, know this: your goals still matter. Changing or adjusting them for a new season of life doesn’t mean losing them. It just means evolving with them.
If you’re like me, having to set aside a goal, even just temporarily, is so much easier said than done. But we’re in this together! And qualifying for Boston will feel just as good, if not better, with an added member to my cheer squad.
Next Up: Running the Indy Monumental Marathon 9 Weeks Pregnant
