I woke up tired and irritated.
Rahiti wasn’t sleeping through the night yet, and Hakavai had woken me at 3am worried about his rock collection down at the beach.
(The waves were going to wash them all away, apparently. We went back and forth about the tide system and the placement of the rocks high up on the sand, negotiating my way out of driving him down to collect the damn pebbles before I lost my mind.)
By 4am, he was happily asleep again. Dreaming, no doubt, about his little gang of mineral deposit friends, all partying on the sand without him.
I looked at the small sliver of light on the ceiling until my watch showed 5am.
“Right”, I thought wearily. “Time to get up”.
Michael had been out with his mates, and as I crept out of the bedroom, I saw he hadn’t quite made it off the lounge.
Pillows were tossed about the living room floor, creating an eerie sea of marshmallow shapes in the morning light.
I glance at the kitchen and see the previous night’s dinner ingredients still stuck to the plates. The sink is full of water, once hot and soapy, now tepid. Deflated bubbles form a dull slick across the surface.
Working my way over to the coffee machine, I go to pop in a compostable coffee pod and realise we’re out. Again.
I’m intensely cranky now.
I can feel a feminist rage starting to fill my throat like a mouthful of fairy floss.
Why is it always up to me to organise the groceries, dinners, cleaning, washing, laundry, and presents for bloody kids’ birthday parties?
“Well, not right now,” I think. “Right now, I’m going for my run.”
With my sports bra on, cap in place, shoes laced up, I jog lightly down the stairs and pull the front door shut firmly behind me. Perhaps a little too firmly.
I can hear Rahiti start to stir as I leave, and feel a wicked smile start to cross my face as I hear Michael getting up from the lounge to get him.
Today’s run is 20 minutes at an easy pace.
I know from the past few weeks of training that even though the first five minutes will be hard, as soon as I get through that bit, I will find my rhythm.
The knowledge that my fellow Beet Babes (that’s what my running community in Run with Turia calls themselves) are also going on their runs today helps, too.
I run up the hill near my house and notice it doesn’t seem as hard as it did in the first week. Another smile crosses my face. I’m doing it!
Round the corner, around the roundabout, I catch my reflection in the windows of the greengrocer and don’t mind what I see. I look good, I feel good, I feel fit, I feel strong. I’m owning this morning!!!!!
I slow down to do a quick cool down walk.
I notice the fresh breeze on my face, smell the fragrance of the frangipanis, and appreciate the sunlight filtering through the trees.
Is the world always this beautiful?
As I walk back up to the front door, I can hear my kids carrying on and Michael laughing.
Nawwww, I love them all so much.
“Hello!!!!” I call out as I walk up the stairs. Hakavai’s lean little arms are thrust through the gate. I scoop him up and give him a kiss.
“Morning handsome!” I give Michael a kiss. “How was your night? Feeling a bit dusty this morning?”
The kitchen is still a mess, the kids’ breakfast joining the dinner scraps.
But that can be dealt with later.
Now, to track down some coffee.
