If There Was a Such Thing as Motherhood Olympics

Here's the sports I'd consider competing in on a good day.

Timed Trials of Wagon-rama.
           Circling a patch of un-mowed grass numerous times while pulling a wagon of 3 children.

Memorizing the lines of 10 Disney movies.

Fix a meal 4 children will love.

Successfully say "no" to an adolescent for the entire trip inside a store of infinitely desired things.

Have 7 consecutive days of no children in mom's bed.

Get through a 24-hour period without tantrums.

Complete pedicures on kiddy toes in world record time.

Go for a run with all kids happy on the way out the door and upon returning.

World record time potty training.

Get through a 24-hour period with all toddler #1 and #2 making it into the toilet.

Filly sippy cup with water before toddler says "wa-wa" 5 times.


Now, it's your turn. Please add a comment about what motherhood, work, or other made-up sport you'd consider competing in on a good day.

# 6: I Run to Test My Best

Four weeks before the beginning of the 30th Olympics my sister, Yolanda, and I in a fit of Olympic angst decided to embark on a month-long I wanna be an Olympian plan. We officially titled it "Train Like an Olympian."

Well, I quickly realized that all of my responsibilities were not going to graciously sit by and watch any wild training sessions. No sponsors came knocking down my door with money and gear. In fact, the last four weeks have been more of a reminding force that I am already on a journey of Olympic proportions requiring fierce determination, clear focus like a laser cut diamond, and tear-inspiring sacrifice. For the last 859 days my regiment has been eat, sleep, motherhood. At any moment, mother-moments become synonymous with an Olympic sport. The last 28 days have felt like upward killer hills of a cycling road race. With three under 3 and an adolescent daughter, I'm thrown into daily competitions of self-centeredness. I also feel like the under-dog country up against the power-house team. 

Where and how does running fit into all of this? Honestly, I've had a hard time fitting any run into an exhausting day, let alone a run worthy of any Olympic heart. For the first half of July things went well with a few solo runs between the majority of runs with my husband. Then husband went on a six-day work week spree. Between a hectic schedule, exhaustion, and heat, running took a week of rest.

Additionally, I was registered for the July 28 Run for Blood quarter marathon. If I was going to beat my officially timed 10k of 1:07:53, I had to get my legs out of the door before the morning of the 28th. That meant that Olympic-mom had to sit down six days before the race so I could remember what 6 miles felt like. Better said than done. I managed eight hard fought miles within the week before race day.


The night before the Run for Blood all I could think of was how ready I was for the peace and quiet of a race. I couldn't wait to talk to myself for an entire hour about any and everything outside of motherhood.


Despite "Train Like an Olympian" being more like "Live Like a Mom-lympian," I still reached a personal best at the Run for Blood. I shaved more than 7 minutes from my time blasting past the shadow of my 1:07:53. That means the month-long journey of "Mom-lympics" still pushed me to beat my best for this race.


As a mom, I still have a space to put my best to the test. Sometimes the space is significant like training for a half marathon. Other times, the space is small where I'm barely able to squeeze in a run. With motherhood at the forefront, I'm hugely grateful for the space, no matter what size to run and test the limits of what I perceive as my best. It's worth noting for future tests of any undertaking that the intensity, dedication, and labor of love that motherhood is greatly impacts other areas of my potential bests. 

Entry 5: I Run to Fulfill a Legacy

My father, Richard Marion Wallace, passed away almost 7 years ago. I like to believe that anyone who had the opportunity to meet my father was lucky especially on a day when he was smiling joyously. His smile was a blessing as was his spirit and giving. The last sermon I heard him preach, which has stayed with me, was about flight. I have grieved and am ready to fly with his legacy as my tail wind. I search for my purpose, raise my children, and run along the way considering the ways I can practice kindness, love and service in reverence to my father's legacy.


One of my fondest memories of time that my father and I spent together was at the track across the street from Luther Seminary where we lived. That was more than twenty years ago when he gave me my first running lesson. I remember his skinny legs in high shorts and white knee-length socks with a wide blue stripe around the calf. Daddy was smarter than anyone I knew except my mom, so the lesson was purely technical. I still hear his voice booming into my ears during runs. "Pump your arms! Lift your knees!" 


My father was a Lutheran minister and professor. A lot of his sermons are still etched in my heart, particularly the last one I heard. As his daughter, I was so blessed by his light. He was a light-worker and his greatest tools were kindness, love, and service. In addition to his running lessons and sermons, I recall how much he spread himself out. He always had a story about people in need of prayer. He made visits no matter the ailment, the situation, time of day, or the place. Personally, I am grateful for the people in my life to whom he has offered love and forgiveness. Daddy's acts of service were in service to Christ. 


One way my father served for many years was to give blood. Countless times Daddy would come home with a bandage in the crook of his arm visiting the  Red Cross that day. I even recall that he had a less common blood type making his blood more sought after. When the Red Cross needed my father, he was there. If that isn't responding to who God calls us to be, I don't know what is.


In my own search for purpose including a purpose for running, I have decided to run a quarter marathon (6.55 miles) on July 28. It's called the Run for Blood. My personal donation is $35, however, I am asking anyone who reads this to donate to the Red Cross for the sake of continuing in my father's steps. Please give. Although my father is no longer here, his spirit of kindness, love, and service are alive and thriving. If you click on this link, Support Erica and the Red Cross, it will take you to my personal page where you can donate to the Red Cross.


Run with Purpose!