Going out too fast

This morning I was given one of the greatest gifts a mother of a not-yet-in-school preschooler can receive—a morning alone.  Truthfully, it was closer to an hour and a half but I’ll take what I can get.

Frances’s birthday party is fast approaching and I still had some last minute errands including ordering the cake, buying candles, and figuring out the dreaded party favors (which Will and I decided to bag once we realized you could spend a ton of money on absolute junk that will likely be thrown away and/or broken within 24 hours after the party.  So balloons it is!).  As much as I love taking George around town with me, he is not the most predictable shopper and has about a two-store limit before the whining, restlessness, and boneless body all take effect in roughly the same thirty seconds—in other words, the major meltdown.  So, Gram-E rescued poor George from what was sure to be pure agony in my quest to visit at least 4 different stores and took him to his favorite playground.  And I hit the ground running.

The good news?  I think I am done with birthday shopping (and even picked up some potential Christmas gifts).  The bad news?  I am completely worn out and it’s only naptime (or at least it is now as I’m writing this sentence; of course I am also hearing the sound of my pint-sized King Kong bang his fists on his crib, so I imagine this entry won’t get posted until much later).

There is a term in running called “going out too fast.”  It is a warning to us amateurs that in longer races (anywhere from a 10k to a marathon or more), it is wiser to start slow—slower than your legs want to carry you—for fear of hitting the much-loathed “wall” and at best hobbling to the finish line (at worst, dropping out of the race altogether).  It took me many failed attempts before I learned that the experts really do know what they are talking about and I have since perfected the art of going out slow (probably too slow) so that I can finish strong. 

Or at least, so I thought. 

There is no doubt this morning that I went “out too fast.”  In my new found freedom, I found myself energized, singing to every song on the radio and telling myself “I can squeeze in just one more store” before 11 am.  But what I failed to remember was that shopping completely exhausts me and next time I need to better pace myself.  And for my next morning off, I am definitely stopping to get one of these:



Starbucks gingerbread latte

I promised myself I would do that and never got around to it.  Undoubtedly I need to readjust my priorities.  If nothing else, the extra caffeine may start to kick in just when I need it most--right after naptime.

Happy Tuesday everyone!