Teamwork

I have a really hard time keeping secrets. So on Monday when we made the announcement, one we’ve harbored for six weeks, that we’re unexpectedly expecting another Troxell, I think we may have surprised a few people. I don't blame them. We certainly were shocked when we found out.

When the truth became apparent back in March, Jason responded with nothing but elation, and I kept thinking about what the future would look like with four children. So many thoughts, mostly pretty selfish, flooded my mind: we cannot afford another baby, I won’t get to race again for a really long time, we need to prepare ourselves for sleepless nights, I’m too old for another baby, I’m really embarrassed because we sold everything and obviously thought we were done having babies, our lives are over.

Like I said, selfish.

Mr. T.’s elation at the addition, however, was contagious, so those thoughts did not last too long. And then when we had an ultrasound to figure out a due date on Monday, I saw the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a long time. Despite the fact I have been spending much of my day fighting nausea and the assaulting smells around me (who knew Jason’s bodywash smelled so bad!), rational thoughts have taken the place of the irrational along with my husband’s constant assurance of “we’ll figure it out.” He’s so great.

I had a bit of a conundrum when we found out about the baby back in March. I had already signed up and was training for the Brookings Half Marathon on May 2. I knew I could most likely run without consequence as I’d read stories about (crazy) women who’ve run full marathons when much more pregnant than I thought I was. But the general nausea and fatigue made training nearly impossible.

I remembered when my friend Carrie (a real life Olympian and thus genuine competitor) and her husband Charlie trained for the Twin Cities Marathon when they had a newborn. Word on the street was Charlie was on a lifetime taper, so he didn’t worry too much about actual training. Thus I adopted the lifetime taper method of training. I made sure I found the oomph for the long run every week for the past month, and then I tried to survive the rest of the week by just resting as much as possible.

Ironically, it worked.

I woke up at 5am Saturday, and my good friend Lori kept me company on the pre-dawn ride to Brookings and acted as my Sherpa and personal aid station. Whenever I saw her every four miles or so she was there with a half a tab of Nuun for the bottle I filled at every aid station. I paid close attention to how I felt, engaged in a walk break every few miles or so, and generally took the race easy. I tried to soak in the absolutely gorgeous weather (50 degrees with a slight breeze), knowing I will not race again for an entire year if even. This half marathon qualifies as one of the biggest accomplishments I’ve ever done. Troxell Quatro, as I call the baby, and I had a great time.

I have had some consequence for the run. I felt lousy most of the afternoon yesterday with an awful headache, but I have a feeling that had more to do with fatigue than anything else. The day after the run I feel wonderful with minimal soreness and stiffness. And I attribute that completely to all the IM training done last year.

Meanwhile, Jason has continued with his training. He had a recovery week this past week, and due to some signs of overtraining, he purposefully took his training none-too-seriously this week with two casual rides and then a trifecta of disciplines Saturday afternoon after I finished the half. He conquered the green monster, which we’re guessing has a temperature of somewhere in the upper 40s and lower 50s right now. This gave him a great opportunity to test out that attractive bonnet, booties, and gloves he’ll be using in Coeur d’Alene. He has eight weeks left to train, so we’re all prepared for the hardest weeks yet.

I need to include an important note on our training. Saturday afternoon was honestly one of the hardest afternoons I’ve endured for a long time. Jason took soccer-dad duty in the morning while I “raced.” Then he needed to complete his workout because we had plans to go on an all-day trip covering a triathlon on Sunday. Additionally, I really wanted a nap. So, while I tried to rest, a friend took the kids so Jason could train. But even then, I just felt lousy. Even after his bike ride, Jason still had an hour run and his swim left, and we promised the kids we’d take them to the beach while he swam. I’d love to say we had wonderful attitudes despite the intense fatigue, but I did not. I nearly cried because everyone was so tired, kids included. And yet we felt obligated to fulfill the promise to go to the beach. When I freaked out and expressed my regret for our decisions, Jason had one comment: “we’ll get through this.”

He was right.

We went to the beach. The kids played and had a great time. He had a fulfilling (albeit dizzying) swim (see the map of his swim). We returned home and worked together to scrub the day’s dirt off the kids, and then he took the two big kids to the park (as he had promised he’d do earlier), while I put the exhausted two-year-old to bed.

I woke up the next day looking back at Saturday knowing we had survived a hard day. Sunday further solidified the ability to "get through this" when we packed the kids and camera up and covered a triathlon three hours away. The two big kids hung with me while I caught pictures in one area, and Sadie snuggled in with Jason while he snapped pictures in another part of the race. Everyone flexed, no one freaked out, and we all had a great time. 

And all of this--getting through a tiring day Saturday and transitioning into a beautiful Sunday--makes me think we can survive hard days overall when we stay positive, work together, and trust in the One who gives us the oomph to live this wonderful life every day. Thus goes the lesson for the week.