If you’re new here, welcome to Run the Shoes, a not-too-serious newsletter about running and fitness.
Hello, dear readers! As I sat down to write this month’s newsletter, I realized I didn’t have a theme to rally around. Though it might not be obvious, I do try to center each monthly send around *something,* but I’m at a real loss this time. I thought about skipping altogether but I’ve learned from past experience that skipping one newsletter turns into two then three, and before you know it, it’s been six months and your free little running newsletter needs to be resuscitated. I find that it’s a lot more work to bring a dormant newsletter back after months away than it is to just keep sending gibberish into the Substack ether. It’s kind of like walking in a race… once you walk, it’s a lot harder to start running again than if you had just slowed down. Bop, but don’t walk.
So instead of a coherent post/listicle/essay this time, I’m going to do a running-adjacent stream of consciousness writing exercise and see where I land. Let’s go!
I’ve been running during whatever sliver of free time I can get these days—bad news for anyone who might be stalking me and trying to determine the best time to catch me alone. There’s no routine here, buddy! We take what we can get! Some days are real wins, like last Sunday, when my three-month-old slept straight through the night until 5:45 am, leaving me enough time to nurse and run 5 miles before my 2-year-old woke up and started screaming “mommy get azday” from her crib (that’s how she pronounces her name, Azadeh).
Some days are near-fails, like this past Saturday when I woke up at 4:15 to nurse, went back to sleep for a little then was up again at 5:30 with an ambitious plan of pumping a bottle and going on a run before the mommy-get-azday alarm went off. I must’ve made too much noise though because just as I was about to plug into the ol’ Spectra and watch The Summer I Turned Pretty fan videos on TikTok, I heard the mommy siren call. I was caught off guard and broke my number one rule for independent toddler sleep by going into her room immediately, and before I knew it, I was lying on the floor without a pillow or blanket and my window to run early had closed. Neither of us fell back asleep and soon we were out in the living room, taking the cushions off the couch to jump onto sheets of bubble wrap.
Three hours later, after I managed to extract myself and go on a run—with a kink in my neck—I started to cry tears of joy. I was running down Park Avenue, which was closed to cars for Summer Streets—truly the best time of year to be a runner in New York City—and I was listening to All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version), so the conditions were right for a good cry. But really, when you’re deep in mom mode then all of a sudden find yourself among the people and doing something for yourself, it’s liberating enough to cry.
That said, some days are total fails, like yesterday, when I planned to run on the treadmill in the afternoon and lay in bed instead.
Running with no schedule at various times of day allows me to observe all the different types of runners on my usual route in Central Park. My favorite cohort is the mid-morning weekday crew. There’s so much mystery to them! Do they work? Did they block out their calendar and pretend they have a meeting? Are they tourists on vacation? Retired? Are they on maternity leave and their partners are watching their babies? Most of them run by themselves, sometimes with one other person, but never in a group. Once I saw Liam Neeson at 10 am on a weekday in a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, and I always see this one lady running in a strapless bikini. A real mixed bag.
The most insufferable cohort is the weekend morning run clubs. I’m all for run clubs creating community etc and maybe it’s my postpartum rage talking but jesus fuck, run single file on the sidewalk and two, MAYBE three across on the running path. And sorry, I just can’t with the Bandit kits. This crop top is a tough one to pull off. Just saying.
I’ve been paying a lot of attention to what people wear running because a) I always pay attention to what people wear, b) my husband recently made the switch from athletic shorts to compression tights and it’s a whole thing, c) my body is in a weird phase and I only have two running outfits that I feel good about myself in. I often come back from a run tempted to buy a new set from a cool person brand but then I remember I have a whole iPhone note dedicated to non-running clothes I’d rather spend $250 on; also, I hate tight clothes. Plus, one day I’ll become an influencer and get that shit for free. Just keep blogging!!
Despite not having a routine, I managed to run 4-5 days a week in July, which feels like a real feat. Most days, I’m so worn down from trying to do it all that going on a run feels like coming up for air… not from drowning so much as from an underwater breathing contest. My to-do list is an insane manifestation of my goals to become a media mogul, be a full-time mom who cooks balanced meals, decorate my home on a budget, strengthen my pelvic floor, read critically-acclaimed books, yada yada yada. I’m always trying to multi-task and check things off, except when I’m running, which is the only time I’m focused on doing one thing. I just get to zone out and listen to showtunes and judge people who wear Bandit. What a treat.
Baked Good of the Month
BGotM is taking a hard pivot as I found out a few weeks ago that my breastfed baby (likely) has a cow’s milk protein intolerance, so I’m on a dairy-free diet while waiting to see if his symptoms improve. It’s been a bit of an adjustment because at-a-glance, my normal diet is about 70% full-fat dairy. Poor guy! I can eat eggs but not butter (or soy), so I spend a lot of time reading ingredient labels. Baked goods bring a lot of joy to my life, and it’s hard to make/find a good one that doesn’t have butter in it, but I’m committed to doing so. So far, I’ve made Superhero Muffins with coconut oil instead of butter (pretty good, for a muffin without refined sugar) and tried the vegan chocolate chip cookie from Levain Bakery, which is a little crumbly but generally delicious. I don’t have a picture of it so instead enjoy this photo of me and my baby looking longingly at a case of Italian butter cookies.
Talk to you in a month,
Elaheh
I was in the same boat with my first kid, and the snacking cakes from Yossy Arefi's book all adapt pretty well to dairy-free!
(Also, I'm a mid-morning weekday runner as a student, and the other folks I see running around town at that time are healthcare workers, bartenders, chefs, etc etc)
The Bandit hate I always think but am afraid to voice out loud 💯😂