Never have I run as much, or as fast as I have since my son Jan didn't get into the school that seemed to suit him best.
Since then we've been struggling to find a place for him, but there's a lot of waiting and pencil pushing, which makes me want to scream like a, well, like a mom!
So thank God for running, for keeping me sane. For offering me release from the excess of adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the hurt and the worry. I can't imagine what I would have done without that release.
And besides the physical effects of running, there's the whole finding myself in nature thing. As I run past old and gnarled trees, which must have been there for hundreds of years, and probably wíll be there for another hundred years, things with my son don't seem so bad after all.
In the grand scheme of things, what's a little hiccup like struggling to find the right school? I'm sure it'll make a great anecdote when he's all grown-up. 'Yeah, there was quite a fuss about finding me the right school,' he'll say. 'But look at me now!'
So I'll just keep on motherind through, and I'll keep on running.