I tend to have epiphanies. It annoys my husband. I’ll say something like, “I just realized that…” and diagnose the source of a long-standing personality flaw of mine. I could understand why it’s annoying, but I’m a little dramatic, and he knows who he married. 

This one wasn’t an epiphany. There was no lightning involved. It was a slow-burn realization: I don’t really feel like an athlete anymore, and that’s ok. I haven’t thought of myself as an athlete since April 11, 2022, the day our little guy was diagnosed, but it’d been coming. After writing this blog for a while now, thinking a lot about my identity and what different parts of my life and self mean or have meant to me, this is probably the natural progression of things. For years, I would wistfully, even bitterly say things like, “I used to be a REAL athlete,” especially when I met new people who didn’t know me then, when I was at the height of my athletic prowess. 

Listen, this is fine. I’m 38 years old. I’m not Dara Torres (though she is super impressive and I have massive respect for her). It was getting to the point where I’d try to train for things, and the training got in the way of family stuff. Or I’d run a race or do a big erg, and I’d be exhausted and useless for the rest of the day. Workout hangovers aren’t an option right now – or anymore. I think I’m (finally) at a place where I can exercise to move my body and stay healthy, rather than to train or reach a goal. 

And more importantly, I’m trying to rethink my relationship with food. I had long thought of food as fuel, as building blocks to feed my body so it’s in the best possible condition. HOWEVER. Since I stopped training seriously some years ago, I also just ate tons of junk food in addition to the good stuff because no one was telling me not to. I love sugar. I love ice cream. I love cereal. I always laugh at the ice cream challenges you see at local mom-and-pop ice cream shops because I have no doubt I could sit down and eat a gallon of ice cream in one sitting without feeling serious negative effects, especially if I planned ahead a little and didn’t eat much before going in there… (Yes, I’ve thought about this a lot.)

Anyway, I’ve long overthought food. My goal now is to not think too much about food and just eat when I’m hungry. We try to plan conscientious, balanced meals for ourselves and the boys, and I occasionally take a multivitamin when I remember it. I figure the less I think about food, the less obsessed about it I will be, and that’s good for everyone in our household. 

Let me now give my disclaimer: if you are training for something and that feels good to you, I think that is awesome. I still really love having a training plan and following it to achieve a goal. I LOVE it. I just need to do things differently for the time being, and I feel really at peace about it. Don’t be super surprised if I’m on here getting excited about training for something in a year or two. It could swing back around.

But for now, here I am, trying to inhabit a gray area. I’m running (slowly) for fun, community and health. I’m eating snacks and not worrying that they’re ruining my eating for the day. I’m working on calming the heck down about all of this stuff that doesn’t matter that much. We’ve been through a lot these last 6 months. It matters so little if I’m 10 pounds overweight. I just don’t care.