Fitful cliff

As many folks understandably have been fretting and watching our country move toward the so-called fiscal cliff, the runlikeamama family hasn't been as focused on that as much as we probably should be. That's because we were facing a cliff of our own -- with an impatient preschool that inexplicably seemed to have lost some heart. It's been nearly a couple of weeks of do this, sign that, or else -- just in time for Christmas, too.

I'm too tired to replay the whole thing here. I replay it in my head one hundred times a day. It's permeated train commutes, workdays, runs with patient friends, last-minute Christmas shopping trips, meals (which has led to looser-fitting pants and tired early morning runs, gotta love the stress diet) and sleep.

I will say this -- having raised a boy who is 16 years older than my 3-year-old guy, well, things have changed from when he was little till now. Schools have changed. There's more diagnoses, more analysis, more finger-pointing --  fix your kid, or else. That approach extends to little boys who have epic temper tantrums and refuse to nap. Not exactly the kid making pipe bombs in the boys' room. He's my beautiful, sweet, bright boy who I long ago diagnosed with stinkerbutt-itis. He's in occupational therapy already for some motor skill and sensory processing issues. We've conceded taking him to see one more expert, just to make sure he's OK, but you know? He's a love. And he's THREE.

Anyway.

What really, really helped, of course, was running. Naturally. I always run "long" on Saturdays, which lately has been 8-10 miles. The last two Saturdays I uncharacteristically did not want to, like, as in, really really really did not want to run. I was so tired and slightly queasy. But I went anyway.

It's definitely winter running season now in Chicago, with icicles hanging from overpasses and modest layers of snow topped with a bit of ice glaze here and there. The conditions are making those of us who run outside year-round adjust our wardrobes and our attitudes. Any yet, embracing winter running as we've faced these challenges has been a mental health saver. The cold air in my lungs, the zipped windbreaker and cozy running tights, my usual fleece headband (borrowed way too long from a forgiving friend) and my running gloves my oldest son bought for me as a gift -- along with the gentle sound of my feet in harmony with my running friends' feet has been so soothing. None of them have small children -- only one has children, and they're long grown. And yet they softly listened, asked questions, told me it would be okay.

Running with friends breeds an intimacy that is not easily found anywhere. There is something about running along side of someone once or more times a week, over months or in many cases now, years. You're physically close to each other, and yet don't have to make eye contact. The words and the stories just roll out and with many of my running friends, there's an easy trust. I love it and it cradles me in times of challenge. Yesterday morning was 8 miles on too little sleep this week and a few nights of not eating dinner, so of course my body gave me a hard time about that. Yet the cradle was there and I finished happy.

I've run 1,114 miles this year -- I may have to squeeze in one more 2012 run, just for the heck of it, even though I'm way past my old annual running mileage record of 900. A friend asked me to write a post about how you log in the runs when you work full-time and have kids. I am eager to write that post. I've been thinking about it on my runs.

But now I think I better get up to speed on this fiscal cliff business.