Currently, life feels like a marathon.
I've never run a marathon, but I've talked to people who have. They say that they make it all right through the first 23 miles or so, but that once they hit the last three they feel like it just might be impossible to go on.
Their bodies begin to shut down and each stride is like another mile in of itself.
Right now I feel like I'm running my last three miles.
My body wants to give out and my muscles are aching.
I remember this feeling during the first few months after Isabela was born. She had colic and would cry for hours on end with no end in sight; all while James and I took turns trading off rocking and bouncing every 15 minutes.
While the crying is less this time around, the three mile stretch is still before us. Two kids is so much harder than one.
They tell you this, but those naive one-child-parents never seem to believe it. I know. I was one of them.
Two full-time working parents and one who's finishing a masters degree adds another layer of exhaustion to the run.
I'm not sure what it is that gets runners to push through these last three miles.
The fact that they're so close.
The intrinsic motivation that tells them to go, go, just a little bit further.
I'm straining to find that motivation.
Just a little bit further.
Because it does eventually get easier. The run eventually becomes a walk. Your body will adjust and cool down.
In the mean time, loved ones will cheer from the sidelines and someone will offer you water as you pass them by.
If we're smart we grab that water and soak in the cheers.