Do you ever feel like your life is an Eagles song? I do. Pre-baby it was "Life in the Fast Lane." Once I ad the baby it became "I Can't Tell You Why." Now, as I prepare for the marathon of motherhood, a new job and the actual NYC marathon this fall, it's "The Long Run."

I'm finding that I'm spending more and more time out of the house, and less time with my son. It's not just the job and the desire to do a few small things for myself--I finally got a haircut this past week, then we went to a concert in New Jersey--it's all the running.

A schedule for my husband, my baby and myself that worked out well in the beginning is in need of some major adjustment. When I started running again a few months ago, I was out of the house for maybe a half-hour. Now, in August, I'm running seven miles at a time, and am out of the house an hour and a half. The plan is for more... much, much more.

To be honest with you, it's killing me. Not just the training, Sure, it's hard to run up hill seven times in a row on a day so moist it nearly qualifies as taking a shower outside, but the physical work and pain is nothing compared to what I am going through mentally.

I miss my baby. I really, really miss my baby. I miss him now and I think about how much more I will miss him once I am back at work full-time and he is in daycare. I feel foolish and guilty and all sorts of other things for leaving him to go run, especially when the hills kick my butt in 90+ degree weather.

Well, my husband says, you could just stop. I could, that's true. I could sit by the sidelines, babe in arms, while I watch my husband run the marathon, or just a lap around our beloved park. Truthfully, I couldn't accept that option. We'd both need to stop because I couldn't just sit there while he enjoyed the run.

I need to run. It's a part of who I am. Perhaps now, more than ever, when I've been a runner longer than I've been a mother or a wife or an HR professional, I need to run. It defines me. But now I am all these other people too, and it's difficult to give each of them the proper amount of face time.

These are the kinds of things I think about, long and hard, while on my long runs. When you're only out there for twenty to thirty minutes you don't really have time to address or resolve issues you face. When you start clocking in over an hour, though, it's just you, your thoughts and hopefully some good running shoes.

While I run I think about my commitment to my family, and how that commitment is the reason I am going back to work at all. It means putting my son in daycare and spending time in an office (albeit a totally awesome one within walking distance to his daycare). I think about how far I've come since I started running when I was twelve years old, how far I've come just lately when I've only been running a few months.

It's amazing how the body re-learns to run, and to run for long distances. Between the post-pregnancy weight, being off my feet for so long and being muddled up in all my mommy hormones, I didn't think I had a runner left in me. I certainly didn't think I had a long-distance runner in there anywhere.

Yet, there she was, nestled away for safe-keeping until the time was right, waiting patiently until I beckoned to her from atop my new Hurricanes. She understood that I was a mother now, that I had a new job and a lot on my mind. she said it would be fine, the two of us out there doing the laps, to discuss what was on my mind and come up with a way to make things better.

The runner is nothing if not patient ... and diligent ... and committed. All the things a mommy would want to be. So, am I saying that by being a runner I am a better mother? Quite possibly. Perhaps I'll give that consideration next time I head out on my long run. I'm set to do nine or ten miles today. That should be enough time to give the notion careful consideration.