Mom on the Run — 'Crazy-busy' mom finds time to run

I got my start running on a treadmill, but to be honest, I would happily never set foot on one again if I weren’t a mother.

Now that might be a little harsh, since treadmills have saved my training on more than one occasion, but I’m very excited for the day that my son Luke opts to ride his bike alongside me as I run, or even chooses to run with me. But, as a crazy-busy mommy running in the ever-changing extreme Central Illinois climate, treadmills are a necessity.

My training schedule, provided by Team in Training — a non-profit organization which enlists runners to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma society, while providing them with coaching for an endurance event — lists Saturdays as long run days. We meet for hill training on Wednesdays, and train on our own the rest of the week.

When Coach Jess, also provided by Team in Training, said she would see me Saturday as we were leaving Wednesday’s hill training, I told her I wouldn’t be able to make it. I promised her I’d get my 10 miles in ... on a treadmill.

The look I received from Coach Jess made me wish I had left out that last little bit (treadmill might as well be a four-letter word as far as many runners are concerned).

“Either that or I run with my kid on my back,” I said.

“Oh, okay,” she said.

She seemed to understand and think my response justified the fact that I would basically be running in place for an hour-and-a-half Saturday morning. But I probably shouldn’t have given her any ideas. I could totally see Coach Jess making us haul children around on our backs as some sort of endurance training.

There are many treadmill-knocking runners out there. Many argue that running on a treadmill is easier than running outdoors. One of the big arguments is that because the belt is being pulled under your feet you do not have to make the same effort to propel yourself forward. Then there’s that whole scenery thing. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather see trees and breathe in the fresh air than see the sweaty person on the next treadmill and breathe in his/her funk, although I’m sure the people next to me aren’t too happy about my funk either. I don’t exactly smell like roses after 10 miles — inside or outside.

When it came down to it, the run was not that bad. I did have to bribe Luke with ice cream to get him to agree to go to “gym school.” Yes, it was only 8 a.m., but he had already had a bowl of cereal and a boy needs his calcium, right?

Once I got to the gym and dropped Luke off at the day care, I stepped on the dreaded treadmill and ran ... and ran ... and ran. With less than half a mile left of my 10-miler, I learned that the treadmill automatically shuts off after 100 minutes. Fun. I had to wait until the belt completely stopped before I could start it up again and finish. I ran the final three minutes and then began a cool down.

Later, my boyfriend Terry would ask me why I ran those last three minutes. He said I was “close enough” and should have just called it a day when the treadmill stopped. I told him that I’d rather be able to say I ran 10 miles, than 9.68 ­— even though I don’t normally go around telling people exactly how far I ran that day, except for you of course.

After the run, I picked Luke up, hoping he would request we go home and take a nice, long nap ... hey, a girl can dream.

“Mommy, did you run for a long time?” he asked instead.

“I did,” I responded.

“How many minutes?” he asked.

“About 104,”  I said.

“Wow, that’s a lot of minutes,” he said. “Good job Mommy.”

It’s amazing how sore feet and utter exhaustion can be nearly eliminated by a bit of praise from a 4-year-old.

Holly Richrath is a reporter at Times-Newspapers. She shares the juggling act that is her life and her quest for sanity in her blog “Mom on the Run.”