For the multi tasking go and do-er: Get Off the Treadmill

As a dedicated amateur runner over the last 24 years my motto has been “I don’t go far, and I don’t go fast, but I go 5 times a week.” I’ve been accused, even by hardcore marathoners, of being insane regarding the lengths I’ve gone to in maintaining my five a week habit. Sickness is ignored. Hotels are chosen by treadmill accessibility. Bedtimes are put off to wee hours in order to get a run in on an otherwise packed day. My husband knows to preface family scheduling discussions with the question “how many times have you been running this week?” Running is more than a workout, it’s my respite, my therapy, and my absolute addiction. There have been hurdles to work around, but nothing blocked my running path, until I hit a surprising bump in the road. The baby bump.

When I saw that little line on that little stick, I firmly expected to keep running until the delivery. We’ve all heard the benefits of ongoing exercise during pregnancy, including an easier labor, faster recovery, and quicker weight loss afterwards. So I crawled out of bed and into my running shoes despite the bone wearying fatigue and the completely debilitating nauseas. Ultimately, however, my running nemesis, sciatica, sent crippling nerve pain down my hip and leg that was so excruciating it forced me to use my grandmother’s walker just to stand up. I admitted that daily runs were aggravating the condition, and had to be put on pause. “Admitted” sounds too genteel. I screamed and cried in frustrated protest, throwing tantrum fits that even the most sleep deprived two year old would have admired. 

It’s an old (20th century) cliche, but life, sometimes, is a treadmill. We cling to our justifications for why we can’t pause or, gasp, get off! There’s not time to meditate… let’s multi-task! “I’ll throw in a load of laundry, watch a conference talk on TV, and meditate, while I’m running.” I’ve never once seen a picture of a meditator sitting calmly, quietly cross legged on a meditation mat on a moving treadmill. 

Being forced to let go of my cherished, if admittedly rigid, exercise routine stretched me in uncomfortable ways. Increased flexibility is only one of the valuable take-aways I’ve come to appreciate from that temporary loss of my running habit. Practically speaking, I’ve learned not to snub walking, swimming, and yoga. I’ve also learned that sacrifices on behalf of another, when made with the right attitude, cultivate love and increase gratitude. I’ve learned there really is a season for all things, and I don’t have to have all things this season. I’ve learned that slowing down, getting off the treadmill, and relaxing into the flow of the moment has its place. I’ve come to recognize a certain type of beauty in imperfection, and my ability to remain hopefully calm in the midst of messiness has gradually increased. 

These seedling lessons on personal empowerment amidst a seeming loss of control were planted during pregnancy with the “loss” of my running. Flexibility, selflessness, love, gratitude, mindfulness, and the ability to see beauty and remain at peace, even in the midst of chaos, were exactly the parenting attributes I needed training in to prepare me for the real workout, the days and years of motherhood after the birth-day. 

What’s your multi-tasking treadmill? I invite you to consider stepping off of it and try out the meditation cushion instead. Pregnancy optional.

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