Compared to most women the world over, I lead a pampered life simply by virtue of the fact that I have a house with walls and a roof, a refrigerator full of fresh food, healthy high-functioning kids, and the freedom to do both the work and the activities I choose.
Still, like nearly all the women I know, especially those with children under eighteen, I sometimes feel, well, not pampered at all. I sometimes feel like I spend nearly all my time taking care of other people’s needs and ignoring most of my own.
A look at our dinner table some evenings says it all. Although I’m a vegetarian, it’s important to me that my children eat protein in the form of lean meats several times a week. “I’ll bake some chicken for the kids and Rick, and then along with it I’ll make things we all like, roast potatoes and steamed broccoli – served with a little butter for the kids, maybe some aioli for me – and then right before dinner I’ll make a really good tossed salad with lots of things in it that the kids and Rick might not like but that I will: arugula, toasted pecans, dried cranberries, crumbled goat cheese,” I tell myself in the morning.
Yes, those are my lofty ambitions early in the day. And then by evening, when the dust finally clears after the rush of preparing dinner and getting everyone to the table, what do you see on my plate? A potato and some steamed broccoli. Maybe a few leaves of Romaine with some vinaigrette. The aioli? The special salad? Fell off the priority list once again, and I realize I’ve done what I too often do: made what everyone else wants and neglected to make what I want.
One hot afternoon last weekend, I was thinking about this as I tried to urge myself out for a run. Holly was playing; Tim was reading; Rick was napping. We’d been out late the night before and I wanted to nap also, but my conscience was telling me to go out for that daily run that I never miss. “Why can’t I nap?” I whined back at my conscience. “I go running every single day and I take naps once or twice a year, and usually I have to spike a fever before I allow myself even that. Why do I have to go running when other people are napping?”
But halfway through the four-mile run, the answer came to me. Sometimes people ask why I’ve committed to running a mile or more every day, why I not only claim my intention to do so but actually go so far as to pay yearly dues – minor, but real – to the U.S. Running Streak Association to be listed on the official registry of daily mile-or-more runners (www.runeveryday.com).
It’s not something I can answer articulately, so instead I tend to be glib: “Because having not missed a day of running in nearly three years, at this point I don’t need a good reason to go; I’d need a good reason to stop.”
As I ran last weekend, though, a different answer came to mind: Because this is the promise I’ve made to myself. Indeed, this is how I pamper myself. Not with fancy salads or naps but with a promise that no matter what else is going on, I’ll get out there for a run every day. It’s not a sacrifice, it’s a sacrament, if that’s not too strong a word. In a very primal way, it’s a form of comforting myself, because on some level it’s as if my conscience has said to me “I promise you that I will never let you get too busy to do this run. I will never let other people be too demanding for you to get out for at least ten minutes. I guarantee that if it is physically within your power to do so, you will have this daily gift: time to yourself, time outdoors, time in nature, time to run.”
I don’t know why it took me so long to see my daily running habit in that light, but since then it has felt a little bit different to me. True, I do a lot for other people (and also true that my life does not demand a lot of genuine sacrifices or impose a lot of hardship on me). But at the same time, I’ve found a way to take care of myself every day too. It may not be exactly the way everyone would choose to reward themselves, but it means a great deal to me. Not missing a day of running in nearly three years proves to me that I’ve put myself as a top priority in at least one small way.
And maybe that’s what helps me do a lot for the rest of my family, knowing that I’ve kept my promise to myself for that daily run over so many months now. Who knows, maybe I’ll start making myself dinners involving more than one course or even fit in a mid-afternoon nap one of these days.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment