Oftentimes, even when you've done everything right, marathons are unpredictable. You read all the books, trained accordingly, ate the right things and avoided the wrong things, and made a lot of sacrifices with this one goal in mind. As you approach the finish line, you inevitably start to deteriorate; you're tired, swollen, and mentally vulnerable, but you keep forging forward because hey, you've done everything right, and therefore, nothing can go wrong.
Except for when they do. The last 10K of my pregnancy did not go as planned. At mile 20, I knew something wasn't quite right, and by mile 21 (week 34), my race was over. I can look at it a few ways:
1) I went out too fast and hit the wall. DNF.
2) I ended up in the medical tent with the worst GI issues imaginable. DNF.
3) I got lost and was driven to the finish line by the sag wagon.
4) I am one competitive mofo, paced the first 20 miles well, crushed my final 10K, and had one helluva PR.
Ding ding ding...the answer is number 4! Logan Rhys Goff was born on December 15th, a full six weeks early, weighing five pounds even.
Logi-Bear
Just like your first marathon, pregnancy immediately and forever changes your life for the better. However, at first, you will question what the hell you were thinking, vow to NEVER do it again, and be sore in places that are just WRONG. So, with that said, I have 2.4 seconds to complete this blog post, as one (or all) of the following circumstances WILL happen:
* Logan will wake up and demand being fed.
* I will have an unforeseen emotional breakdown and throw my computer at the wall.
* I will fall asleep on the keypad and start typing like this: pwiorjgoklmnlksmd'ngbl;m
* My b00bs will start leaking all over my desk.
* The mailman will come to the door with a package while I am either (a) crying, (b) not dressed, (c) with breast pumps attached to me, or (d) all of the above, thus leading to a panic attack.
Once my feet hit the 20-mile timing chip mat (aka my baby shower), I turned to my best friend and said something wasn't right. Actually, I described what I was experiencing, but for the sake of crossing a blog-o-sphere line, I'll keep this PG. You're welcome. That night, I ended up in the hospital with preterm labor symptoms, and by 5am the next morning, I was admitted to the antenatal unit on bed rest. I was there for another two nights before being discharged, only to go home and have my water break that same day, sending me back to the hospital for another five days before being induced at the end of the week. Moral of the marathon story: ALWAYS listen to your body.
Things I learned/highlights from boredom bed rest:
* I was stuck with a needle 22 times during the week. Yes, I counted. I was bored. Shut up.
* I now know what it is like to wear Depends. Nope, not cool.
* Clothes are AWESOME. You realize this when you are not allowed to wear them for a week.
* Peeing is AWESOME. Catheters can kiss my needle-stuck a$$.
Bed rest not-so-awesomeness in my sexy, size 4XL robe. At least my hair looks good.
After my week in the hospital and 10+ hours of labor, I set a new hospital record for fastest push time. Loga-licious was born at 5:23pm, and my Jimmy John's tuna fish sub (my super forbidden pregnancy craving) was completed at 5:26pm.
After Logan was born, he was quickly whisked away to the NICU, where he would stay for a very LONG two weeks. We have had him home now for another two weeks, and it is hard to believe that our awesome, miniature fart nugget is one month old tomorrow!
Daddy & Logan in the NICU
Aside from sleep deprivation and the massive rack that has eaten my torso, life is good. During the day, I feel like I have no time to breathe; yet, at the end of the day, I look back and feel like I accomplished nothing. And you know what? That is okay. Our little man is home, healthy, eating like a champ, and kicking some preemie a$$.
Oh, and t-minus 12 days until I can run again! Not that I am counting (mm hmm), but I am ready to attack a fall marathon. My sights are set on either Chicago, Columbus, Philly, or Greensboro, but wherever it may be, it is going to be awesome having someone extra special there to greet me at the finish line.
Happy Running!
