Imagine you had a baby ten weeks ago.  Somewhere between the pregnancy, birth, and/or after effects of birth, you herniated a disk in your back in such a magnificent and spectacular way it was crushing your spinal cord.  And you’re told if you don’t have surgery the very next morning you will likely end up paralyzed.

Did I mention you’re a runner?  Running is your Prozac.  It’s what put and end to a debilitating bout of depression and anxiety.  So your doctor tells you that you will never run again.  You might not even walk without a limp again.  So you sulk, you get depressed (again), you listen to the negativity.  That subscription to Runners World?  Its been piling up in a drawer somewhere.  It’s too painful to look at yet you can’t quite cancel it or throw them out.  So they sit in a junk drawer.  Until one not so special day, one like any other, you get the mail and there’s that f’ing magazine again.  And for whatever reason, you decide to open it.  And the page you open to is the story of Matt Long.  Matt was a New York firefighter, a runner, a triathlete.  An IRONMAN triathlete.  One day while riding his bike he was hit by a bus.  He should not have lived.  The details of his accident are gruesome.  The details of his recovery are awe-inspiring.  And so this is where your recovery starts.  Again.  Almost a year’s worth of magazines tucked safely out of sight and this is the one you decide to look at.

You fight your way through two years of physical therapy, lots of pain, and some more negativity, from inside and outside.  You run a few 5Ks, tough out a miserable 10K, and along the way find peace of mind, confidence, and your long-lost sex drive (hey-o!).

So now you’re in a good place.  You leave a toxic job (and unfortunately some pretty awesome friends with it), you’re getting the hang of this parenting thing, you’re training for your first half marathon (screw you and your no running) and you’re relationship with your husband is the probably the best it’s ever been in the 23 years you’ve known each other (14 married).  Guess what?  You got pregnant.

And the jokes not over my friends.  It’s twins.  Twinageddon had begun.

I’ll skip over the twins first two years for now, chronicling that mayhem and foolishness will take multiple posts I’m sure.  But since injuring my back and being told I’d never run again, I’ve run multiple 5Ks, a few 10Ks, and three half marathons.  I completed the Disney Princess Glass Slipper Challenge of a 10K on Saturday and half marathon on Sunday.  And this weekend I’m going to finally fulfill my long time goal of becoming a certified running coach (squee!).

Somehow I’m going to incorporate running, fitness, nutrition, parenting, the insanity of raising multiples, and mental, physical, and spiritual wellness into this blog.  So, if you’re a parent (parents of singletons always welcome – that’s what the parents of multiples call you ladies that pop ’em out one at a time), have a seat and grab that cup of coffee you reheated in the microwave three or four times.  Not a parent?  That’s ok too.  There will be plenty of running, wellness, and nutrition info for you as well.  Take this absurd journey with me as I try to find the sanity I lost a few years ago and run a few miles (how about 26.2?), eat some good food, and have a few good laughs (likely at my expense).  And hey, if no one reads this, writing (and running) is cheaper than therapy!

Isaiah 40:31 For those who hope in the Lord will soar on wings like eagles; they shall run and not grow weary; they shall walk and not be faint.