My sister-in-law runs ultra marathons. An “ultra” marathon is a race longer than 26.2 miles. As an inconsistent 5k-runner myself, running this distance is pretty much unfathomable to me.
My sister-in-law told me a critical part of training for this type of race is learning to run on tired legs. So in order to prepare for her races, she will run a training marathon or half-marathon on a Saturday, and then wake up and run another on Sunday. You have to run a race that you started tired.
Feels like motherhood to me lately.
For nearly four years I’ve been loving a little boy who is hurting. He came to us through foster care at 13 months old and became forever ours through adoption this past fall. Along the way, we have witnessed the depth and breath our our precious son’s pain. If he wasn’t traumatized from the experiences that brought him to us, surely the nearly 40 months of foster care wreaked its own havoc. We are so thankful that chapter is over. Almost every day I still look at this beautiful boy and can’t believe he’s mine.
But if I’m honest, I’d say, I thought we’d be better by now.
Turns out after adoption, there’s another whole race to run. This blog is to tell that story.