Run away, Run away!

Sometimes that's what I want to do.
I mean, who really wants to look after Captain Joey fusspot, Sargeant Matthew crankypants, and General Duncan Whiney when bedtime is nearing, but not quite here yet.
It's called the witching hour.
The time between dinner and bedtime when toddlers turn into evil little beings, hell bent on complete and utter disobedience. It's like they eat naughty pie for desert, turns them into whining, cranky, hyperactive scallywags.
Trying to get them into jammies is like wrestling an octopus - x 3!

Of course it's not like that every night - but often enough when you have 3 small children. Some days are harder than others, and there are times I've just reached the end of my patience.
The buttons have been pushed, and I would like nothing more than to just run away.....

So, I signed up for The Running Room. Yes, I've done it. I really signed up. the course starts in July, and I will be running 3x a week. Best of all, I will be out during the witching hour, and my husband will suddenly be thrown into the difficult position of trying to wrangle 3 toddlers into jammies and bed while I enjoy the scenery, pushing foot to pavement, and gasping for breath with a stitch in my side - as I am sadly out of shape. I shall still think of it as a holiday.
My poor poor husband. He isn't used to putting them all to bed. We usually work as a tag team, with one distracting the older boys with tempting promises of chocolate milk while the other changes a diaper and puts the baby to bed. 1 down. Then we tag team each other with the older boys. One wrestles them into jammies while the other gets their drinks ready. One reads a story to Matthew while the other one tries to keep Duncan occupied. Sometimes they get a story read together, but then they want to sleep in the same room, and that usually (okay always) ends up with one or both of them crying and yelling and generally not going to sleep, so we seperate them. The old divide and conquer, I mean - we are the parents - surely we can't be outwitted by a 3 and 4 yr old - yet I am ashamed to admit that they do manage to get that extra bedtime drink, or that extra 10 minutes of "resting on the couch". What will Chris do without me?
I have visions of them running around in the backyard at all hours of the night, waiting for me to come home from my running night, having pushed my physical limits to the point of rubber legs quivering, only to have to round them up and play tag team bedtime. But maybe, my husband will surprise me. Maybe I will come home to a quiet cleaned up house, to rest my barking dogs, and find all 3 angels blissfully sleeping. Oh yes, that is a vision worth hoping for.

So I will be in training for 10 weeks this summer. I will be running, and toning these jello thighs.
I'm hoping to lose at least 10-15lbs - although gaining muscle, I may not - but my pants should fit better.
I will cap my wonderful training with a 5 kilometre race in September.
This is my real motivation.
the race is a sponsored race, for the Perinatal Bereavement Society of Ontario.
It's been 5 years since we lost our sweet Andrew, so I will be running 5 km in honour of him.
I'm feeling very positive about this. Scared, because I know I'll have to work, and I'm lazy by nature, but the thought of finishing that race - the feeling of pride and accomplishment, not for just reaching a physical goal for myself, but for actively doing something in Andrew's memory,that's an emotional goal too - I can't wait to cross that finish line, and feel proud and good, and happy.