I have a pink tank top. It has Strong as a Mother on the front of it. I wear it frequently, but always in competitions of any sort and always on Mother’s Day.
I like it because for as much of a statement as it makes, it leaves plenty to the imagination.
My mind always goes to fucker. As in strong as a mother fucker. I realize, however, that this is redundant. A mother IS a mother fucker, in all the ways possible.
In my journey as a grieving mother the word strong has come to piss me off. “Oh Barb, you are so strong”, “I could never be as strong as you”. I know that these proclamations are meant to be kind, but they are incredibly insulting to me.
I am NOT strong in my grief with Molly. I sometimes barely make it through the day. I drink too much; I waste a ton of time wandering around, I piddle away money. I waste so much time.
None of these actions sound like a strong person.
But here’s the thing. There are many ways that I AM strong. Ways that I manage the details of my life. Ways that I manage the horrible events of my life. Ways that I use my troubles to help others with theirs. But mostly, I am strong as a mother.
I have spent a lot of my life mothering people. When I think of what this means, I realize that I have spent much of my life putting the needs of others before the needs of mine. There are people in my life that have called me selfish. They would deny that I put anyone before myself.
These are the people I do not mother. Sometimes they are people I struggle to maintain friendships or relationships with. Sometimes they are not kind people. For the most part, they are people that see me mothering others and find me an easy target for exploitation.
I am gaining strength in my ability to not only acknowledge these people and their roles in my life, but to share these stories.
So back to being strong as a mother.
Mothers have incredible intuition, especially when it comes to their children. Many mothers have the ability to utilize this intuition into all aspects of life. This is where I often feel strong as a mother.
I am pretty good at sensing what someone in my presence may need or think. I am not a medium or mind reader, just connected to those with whom I interact. Sometimes, my intuition is generalized and shared in my podcasts and live shares.
I often worry about what I say and write. I worry that people are getting sick of my stories. I worry that I am pushing people away.
Then comes a message, thanking me for sharing a story or feeling. That through listening to my share, they felt affirmed or validated or comforted. So I think I will continue sharing.
But this is not why I am writing. This is not a “isn’t Barb great” self-love blog. And while it involves intuition, it’s different.
I think I am going to start running again.
I have been working with a coach around nutrition and programming. While I am in an “eat a lot and don’t workout too much” bulking phase, I have faith that I am on the road to bigger things. As a matter of fact, I am sure of it.
The perfect storm of “Barb is still a runner” occurred this week. My podcast episode includes my experience meeting up with Joanie at The Boston Marathon. I recorded an episode yesterday with my college track teammate and longtime friend Marti Shea. I ran a 5K race waaayyy faster than I thought possible.
But mostly, I feel like a runner again.
My time in the 5K was 32:47. Ten minutes and thirty seconds per mile. Not fast by any definition. When compared to my lifetime 5K best of 16:21 it is downright slooowwwww. But I do not care. I felt good, my breathing rhythm matched my stride throughout the race. Nothing hurt, and by that I mean no joint pain or tight muscles. I was quite uncomfortably the whole time, but this is typical of any runner in any race.
Running is not easy, especially for me at 150 pounds. But this race was! Overall, it felt easy.
So, where does the strong as a mother come in?
Running saved me. Running taught me to love my body. Running provided an education and travel experience that was life changing. Running brought me to coaching cross-country and track. Over twenty years of my life mothering young athletes in the sport I loved. I seldom planned workouts more than a day or two ahead. I relied on my gut and my intuition when it came to deciding what would happen at practice.
When I gave birth to Gracie and then Molly my experience with interval training came in handy. When I was sad, or glad, or antsy, a run would fix everything. I ran in all manner of weather and had some of my best experiences in blizzards and downpours.
The best part, though, is that I was really good at it.
CrossFit replaced running when I lost my job. As I got better and better at it, and began competing, I stopped running with any regularity. What had filled my soul from running was now replaced by CrossFit. I have come to realize that it is more than just being really good at lifting weights or running a 5K.
It is about community.
A community of mothers is an amazing thing. When I had Gracie one of my runners asked me if I thought it would change me. I told her I hoped so, that if it didn’t what kind of mother would I be?
During the 5K I ran on Mother’s Day I felt incredible community. And I felt a part of that community. As I participated in The MollyB WOD on Saturday at my CrossFit Gym, I felt incredible community.
I did both events with my friend Pam.
She is a big piece of my community. We talk of our travails; we share our victories. We critique each other and offer praise and support. We talk about our children. We are mothers.
The intuition. The dedication to training and sport. The connections to others who share your vision. All of these things bring “strong as a mother” to mind.
I called my book Motherland because motherhood to me is like a country. It is not something I do so much as a place I live. All manner of climate and terrain exist in Motherland. The population can vary and the attitudes of those who live in Motherland can change on a whim.
There is nothing predictable here, except perhaps the strength it takes to inhabit a place like Motherland. While anyone can live here, one must be strong as a mother to survive.
Happy Mother’s Day