Laying down the Gauntlet

I am often asked how I manage to train for a marathon with three small things clinging to my legs and if truth be told I struggle which is why you may see me crawling across the finish line on April 17th. 

I  tend to run late at night and give up family time on a saturday to do the longer runs; but I also look to take any excuse not to run (honestly if I sneeze I take three days off sick from training). 

Today was aiming to be a rest day, after I ran 21 miles yesterday, until this conversation happened;

“Mummy I want to run with you today.” Said twin girl

“Yeah me too.” Piped up twin boy “and we can run faster and further than you.”

Well my competitive nature instantly revved into gear.   The gauntlet had been thrown down, I had a race on my hands.

The twins showed that they had been sneaking a peek at my “runners world” magazine by limbering up before hand.

 
He who helped create them  kindly volunteered to fire the starting gun  and to stay behind with the baby and we were off.

 Twin boy set off like the energiser bunny on speed; with twin girl hot on his tail but at a more manageable pace.  Being the good mother I am, I quickly spurted past the pair of them shouting “eat my dust kids”.

A quarter of a mile in I needed a rest, my competitive nature had more endurance than my legs, I was discovering that five-year olds run like whippets.  Luckily twin boy was ready to recharge as well.

Two seconds later the twins declared themselves fully rebooted (I think they snuck in a lucazade gel pack) and the race recommenced with the pair of them leaving me in their shadows.

Maintaining a good pace I struggled to reach them, even stumbling at one point on a twig I think they may have left in my way on purpose.

At the halfway point we all stopped for a sensible stretch and I reclaimed some lost time, but quite frankly I was knackered, I can cover some distance but not at the speed of a child.  As my cheeks started to return to normal and the pressure of my heart started to lessen in my chest off they set again heading towards the end goal.  (Literally a goal as we chose the football nets as our final destination.)  Giving them a slight head start,( I am soft really), they hurtled towards the finish line with me whooping behind having more fun running than I have had in years.

I was beaten by two five-year olds; they crossed the line first, triumphant in beating their marathon runner mummy.

Walking home, tired and happy, with a twin in each hand, twin girl declared:

“Mummy when I grow up I want to be a marathon running princess like you; I like that you are really fit and can run with us!”

“Yeah” echoed twin boy “and I like that your belly and boobies are smaller now”

Enough said!