Yeah, so, I'm getting big. While in the gym earlier this week, the front desk lady gasped and exclaimed, "Ohmigod!" as I waddled through the door. Then some dude thought it was funny to tease me while lifting five pound weights by saying, "Hey there, your sit-ups aren't working!" It did actually make me chuckle, until I suddenly had the urge to punch him in the face (no worries, I refrained). In any event, shit is getting real.
Around 18 weeks, my running actually started to pick back up. I snuck back under 8:00 pace, while still at recovery effort, and felt so thankful that my body was letting me do this. Then somewhere around 19 weeks, my feet got really fat, and I no longer had sneakers that fit. So, in my stubborn-ass nature, I put on the one pair in my closet that actually did still fit, full-well knowing that this particular shoe was BAD for my running gait. "It's just one run," I thought. "What are the chances that something will go wrong?" I thought. Yeah, so, about a mile into that run, I pulled my calf. BAD. I ended up with about two weeks of no running. That's when this happened:
What do you get when you cross a pregnant chick with the inability to run or drink wine? A hole punched through your bathroom wall.
Luckily, we took a really nice trip to Maine right after this happened. We had some cooler weather, lots of opportunities for cross-training (kayaking, hiking; etc.), and other distractions. However, on our final night in Maine, I ate a cheeseburger (obviously) ...but then threw the entire thing up a few hours later. Oh dear lawd, my pregnant ass is revolting against beef! Therefore, when we got home, this happened:
What do you get when you cross a pregnant chick with the inability to run, drink wine, or eat cheeseburgers? A hole punched through your other bathroom wall.
(Hot dayumn I'm strong!)
Luckily after this, I was able to start running again. Except now, I was around 22 weeks, and my GI system started to perform some really special tricks (which was eventually determined to be from my daily white chocolate mocha), and my uterus was starting to cramp. Around 20 weeks, I was diagnosed with partial placenta previa, which means my placenta is somewhat covering my cervix. The risk with this is the placenta tearing, which can send you into pre-term labor. The doc advised to stop running if I felt any cramping and that if I progressed to complete previa (or if the partial did not clear by 28 weeks), most of my activity would be halted. So, from that point forward, running became very spotty, and from 25 weeks on, has basically been non-existent. The cramping and the urge of a baby falling out at any second is, ya know, a tad unsettling. Now, with less than a week to go until my 28-week mark, the partial previa has yet to clear. So, that's why this happened:
What do you get when you cross a pregnant chick with the inability to run, drink wine, eat cheeseburgers, or drink white chocolate mochas, topped with the lingering threat of not being able to move at all? A fully torn off car sun visor, irrationally accomplished while sitting at a red light.
(Do I need anger management??)
I've still been able to ride the recumboring bike and the elliptikillme in the gym, but I'm not gonna lie, that shit blows. However, I do it because my running goals sit thick in my heart, and I will be thankful I stayed in shape during this pregnancy. If after next week I'm taken off all activity, I'll probably be somewhat distraught, but hey, it's for a very good cause, and well, we do have a third bathroom...
I find myself cringing now when someone asks me, "Are you still running?" Many people think your level of activity during pregnancy is a choice. Maybe for some it is, but for others, you have to listen to your body and doctor and do what's best for your baby. If it actually was my choice, I'd head out the door for a 20-mile run right now, but unfortunately, that's not in the cards for my body. I actually had someone call me a wuss (granted, they said it jokingly, but still!) when I mentioned I was going to the gym to ride the recumboring bike. That was like a knife going through my chest. At that moment, I wanted to drink six white chocolate mochas and then invite him over to my house, where I'd lock him inside for 24 hours...
Do you ever drive past a greenway, trail, or other runners and start crying because you want to be running SO BADLY? That's where I'm at right now. Here's the thing though... I know this is going to serve me SO WELL. My desire and drive has never been greater while dealing with the forced rest, and like I've said before, I truly believe this is how some women come back from pregnancy faster than ever. Screw the hormone levels and blood volumes; it's about heart and guts. How bad do you want it? I know I want it more than ever.
T-Minus 12 weeks and five days (but let's be real, most likely less for me) until we get to meet our new little man! And T-Minus 18 weeks and five days until I can start training again! ...not that I'm counting. :)
Here's a little of what we've been up to these past 10 weeks...
Butter's room is starting to take shape!
We're fortunate to have the new LeBauer Park in Greensboro.
Fun times with family and friends in Rangeley, Maine
I'm fortunate to have so many beautiful mama friends!
Neighborhood cocktail party (minus the cocktails for me!)
25 weeks along
National Folk Festival in Greensboro
Logan is picking up my carbo-loading slack!