Saturday Morning Fever

In my teens and early twenties, I couldn't wait for Friday night. I'm a night owl by nature. In college I'd go out at 10:00 pm and could go on dancing and socializing all night. Many years (who's counting?), a husband, a house, a business, and 3 kids later, Saturday mornings are my new Friday night. I look forward to my Saturday morning run like a teenager waiting for Friday! It is my one day to sleep in, but instead, I sneak out of the house to go running, hoping not to wake anyone. It's MY time.

Strange, it brings back memories of trying to sneak INTO my house at 18, hoping not to wake my parents. I set out my running clothes and shoes the night before, and plan my quiet escape. Before I leave, I tiptoe to the kitchen. With the stealthy quietness of a teenager, I make coffee. I brew 2 pots to bring for our post run coffee clutch. I watch the coffee pot...why won't it brew faster!!!! It's done! I can get out and no one woke up. I rush out the door, get into the car, and go through my mental checklist...running shoes, water, towel, socks, watch, coffee, cups for those who'll forget to bring theirs....KEYS! I forgot my keys. It never fails; I always have to go back for something. I go back in the house for my forgotten keys, and there is Fiona, my 5 year old in her nightgown looking like Cindy-Lou Who from Dr Seuss's, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. "Where are you going mommy?"

Busted!

"Running" I say. She wants to come. I explain that I have to go alone, its mommy's time. I tell her that we all need our own time to do the things we love. Time with ourselves, or with our friends. "It's important that I go alone, it makes me a better mommy" I say. She agrees to stay home.

I'm free for 3 hours. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but this is my time. I drive to Rock Cut, wondering who'll show up to this Saturday morning party of sorts. I pull into the Lyons parking lot as 3 other cars pull in. I see a few runners stretching in the parking lot, a few more making trips to the outhouses. A good turnout! We gather and wait for stragglers, stretching our quads and hamstrings. We set off into the woods, it's beautiful...peaceful. We go for an 8 mile run. In my twenties this would have been considered torture. Waking up at 6:30 to go running?

Our Saturday morning crew is always changing. Some of us have been doing this run for almost a year; others jump in when they can. Some days we plod along enjoying conversation and laughing at each others stupid jokes. Other days we push ourselves in a way we couldn't or wouldn't alone. Either way, by the time we're done, we're all a sweaty mess, refreshed, and feeling great. Amazing what an early morning run can do for your mental well being. We walk back to our cars, our locker room on wheels. We open our trunks, change our shoes, grab towels and water, talk about what a great run it was, and plan our next. I break out the coffee. I feel like the college girl, cajoling everyone to go to the after-hours party. "Come on guys; let's just have one more cup of coffee....its hazelnut!" It gets them every time. We savor the smell of it. We sit on the curb, or the grass, stretching, sipping our coffee, ahhhhh the best part of the run!

The party breaks up. We all go our own way. On my way home, I realize how true my escape words really are. My Saturday morning run makes me a better mom, a better everything. It's my time and I wouldn't trade it for anything.