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A few months ago, I went to a Zumba class where I quickly concluded that white girls don’t have much rhythm, Latin girls have a lot and 20-something Swedish nannies don’t need any.  And last I checked, I’m not Latino or a 20-something Swedish nanny.

But still, despite a lack of actual rhythm, I was feeling pretty good about myself for going to an exercise class. Good enough that I rewarded myself with a two month break.

And then just the other day at preschool pick-up, I ran into a friend who is an avid exerciser and I had the stupidity to ask…

“So are you working out these days?”

“No, not so much. But I’ve totally been hitting the candy. Hard,” she responded.

Okay, she didn’t actually say that. Instead she said,

“Yes, I’m training for an Iron Man.”

Oh. That’s sort of like a Zumba class except that instead of gyrating, shimmying and tripping over yourself for 50 minutes, you swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles and then run 26.2 miles.

And not in a lifetime.

In a single day.

In fact, she had just done a six hour training run.

Holy grilled cheeses.

That sounded so painful. And boring. And impressive.

So as I was contemplating how anyone could take part in an Iron Man, my throat started to hurt. Which I ignored.

And then my head started pounding like a mofo. Which I figured was nothing.

But by Saturday morning, “nothing” was kicking my ass.

I had a fever which 6-year-old Dylan pointed out was completely worse than having Bieber Fever. And she’s so right.

Despite my deteriorating condition, I couldn’t rest because I had to volunteer at our school fair and take care of my four kids, including twins who were also sick. Thankfully my dad was there to help and I did manage to squeeze in a trip to the walk-in clinic where they confirmed strep throat. Which of course, my twins have too.

It was honestly my worst day as a mother. Not that I was a bad mother. I wasn’t. It’s just that it took epic energy to push through my throbbing pain and care for my children when all I wanted to do was lie down. Every single second.

It definitely wasn’t top notch care. But they were fed, they were clothed, they had bedtime stories. Of course, there was too much TV, the house was a mess and I’m sure everyone got called the wrong name. (But kids don’t care what they are being called when they’re watching hours of “Bubble Guppies.”)

That day was my own personal Iron Man.

The only one I’m positive I’ll ever complete.

32 Responses to the iron man

  • Jenn says:

    You are my hero. We got The Bug on Boxing Day (day after Christmas) and I couldn’t keep myself awake. Thankfully my one toddler was taken care of by my immeasurably wonderful husband, but probably only because he knew it was my turn the next day. He was man donw properly on the 27th and in my 85% health (which was AWESOME and I could have taken on the WORLD) I babied the baby and looked after my toddler too. So… big ups to you for doing it on your own.

  • Meredith says:

    You might want to consider training for an Iron Man now… it will probably feel like a vacation after your weekend! Or you could just say you were training – imagine what you could do during a six hour “run”

  • Alex says:

    Oh my god. This story hurts me. Feel better, Kelcey! Forget about Iron Man. You
    Are a Gold Goddess – solid 24k, baby! Way better than iron. Sparkly, pretty,
    and very valuable.

  • GrandeMocha says:

    I thought I was impressive getting the cats fed & watered during food posioning. You are my Iron Man!

  • Diane says:

    If you had 6 free hours to yourself – would you waste it on running? Enough trying to understand a crazy mind. Hope you feel better!

  • amourningmom says:

    If I had known I would have been there with the “Go, Kelc, go!” signs. And, next time I see you I will wrap you up in the tin foil blanket. Very impressive Kelc. Feel better. Miss you. xoxo

  • Cat says:

    As the youngest of 8 I grew up thinking my name was…
    Mary Brigit
    Andy Joe
    So, if you do it for one day don’t feel bad, it was that way my whole child hood.

  • tracy says:

    Oh running 6 hours would have been so much easier. I just call my each of my kids “whateverthehellyournameiscomeoverhererightnow!” It works every time, so I assume names are not important.

  • E says:

    If she looked like you she wouldn’t be doing any freakin’ Iron Mans. Your day and hers both sound like hell. Glad you all survived.

  • Ella says:

    There was the day hubs and I both had food poisoning, I had to teach a toddler art class IN MY HOUSE, and we had a two year old running amuck. My husband just planted himself in front of our closed bedroom door and let our daughter crawl all over him. At least she was safe and contained. That was the best we could do.

  • Tonya says:

    Dear God! That is definitely far worse than any Iron Man!!! I’m not sure professional athletes would be able to do what you did without a serious nervous breakdown.
    Oh, and your friend sounds crazy. I’m sure she’s lovely but maybe you should get someone (in a white coat) to have a look at her. Why is she torturing herself?

  • Not in a lifetime, ha!

    6 hour run. I like to say things, lie “that’s far worse for your body than sitting in front of a computer for 6 hours – think of the joint strain!!”

    You’re a great mom, I feel it in my bones. My bones are never wrong!

  • Betsy says:

    Glad you are feeling better. Strep is running rampant through the school here. Samantha has had it 3 times this season. My clean-athalon was running through the house with a steamer and wipes trying to kill every last germ. Get and stay healthy.

  • Sadly, I’m sure you will be having more iron man days in the future. When my daughter got to junior high, I started packing iron man days into mere minutes. Oh, the drama! Exhausting, I tell you. Exhausting. Now go get a massage.

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kelcey kintner