Tag Archives: pregnancy

The F Word

Posted on by Run DMT
15

As much as I love to drop the F-bomb, I am not referring to that F word.

Instead, I am referring to FORTY.

In 2010, I gained forty pounds due to my pregnancy and didn’t lose an ounce after I delivered baby #3.  How is that even possible? Naively (even after three babies), I thought that I would lose at least nine pounds at the delivery given that I passed an 8 lb, 10 oz butterball, but nope.  Somehow I dropped almost a nine pound baby and my body elected to carry a phantom baby in his place.

Forty seems to be a haunting reoccurring theme in 2011 too.  It looms behind every corner.  That dreaded F-word surrounds me as two of my closest friends and I are turning forty this year.

Funny, I don’t feel forty and I don’t think I look forty (Thanks to Demi Moore and other cougar mamas who made forty the new thirty), but the sound of it sends chills down my soon to be osteoporosis spine.  Am I really that old?

But before I hit the Big 4-0, these forty pounds have got to go, which leads me to two more F-Words: FAT and FIT.

I refuse to be fat at forty.  I will become a mom on the run again.  In 2011, I commit to being fit.

And to put my money where my mouth is (instead of food or beer for a change), I will compete in three half marathons (13.1 miles) in the next four months.  That’s close to forty miles just in races! (39.3 to be exact, but close enough)

Fourty.  There’s just no escaping it this year.  Fuck.

 

*This post was inspired by*

Mama's Losin' It

Just Like Starting Over

Posted on by Run DMT
4

Yesterday, I ran another 4 miles and I am steadily improving.  WOOHOO!

 

4 Miles

357 Calories

Ave Pace 13:39

Max Pace 9:27

Time 54:34

 

Today, I registered for the Women’s Running Magazine 5K.  I’ve got about a month to really improve and get back into the game.  Truthfully, it feels just like starting over.

 

When I began running three years ago, I could barely run a quarter mile.  My good friend and running partner, Lori (now a virtual running partner/coach since she moved away), convinced me to stick with it.  “Anybody can run,” were her words.  “Run a bit and walk a bit.  You’ll get there.”

 

Lori twisted my arm convinced me to train for the Turkey Trot 5K Wingding even though I only wanted to run the 1 mile Gobbler.  She told me about Cool Running’s Couch Potato to 5K plan and Hal Higdon’s Novice 5K Plan which made a 5K goal more doable and attainable.  Runners can walk? It seemed like such an odd concept.

 

By following these plans, a once non-runner became an OBSESSED runner.  I was hooked and the rest is history.

 

But then I became pregnant and at seven months I was too big and too uncomfortable for any walking or running or wogging.  My running days would have to pick up after the baby was born.

 

Now, it’s two months after the birth of Baby Run DMT and I’m slowly getting back into the groove in more ways than one.  With my training, I’ve had to revisit those novice 5K plans because there’s a whole lot of walking to finish 4 miles.  Last week, I could barely run a quarter mile without having to stop to walk.  This week, I ran a half-mile (maybe even farther) before I needed to stop to walk.

 

In the beginning of my running days, Lori advised me to walk the intersections of our neighborhood, which is great advice that I’m following again these days. A five to ten second walk to cross the road is just the break I need to pick up my pace.

 

Since I didn’t have a Garmin, I don’t know what my pace was in the beginning of my running days, however, I believe I finished the Turkey Trot 5K in 33 minutes. It would be great to finish close to that at the Women’s 5K next month.

 

In our phone conversations, Coach Lori encourages me once again, “Don’t worry. You’ll be back at your old pace in no time. You’ll get there.”

 

But I think John Lennon said it best. It’ll be just like starting ooooovveeerrrr.

Postpartum Countdown

Posted on by Run DMT
4

I have two weeks until my postpartum visit with my OB.  When she visited me in the hospital, she advised me to take it easy. (This is the same doctor that advised me NOT to run the marathon pregnant.)

 

Can I do some yoga?

 

No.  You may unknowingly rip or pull something.  Give your body a chance to heal.

 

Can I walk?

 

I would not attempt anything until your postpartum check-up.

 

Then, Allan chimed in and asked “Bottom line, Doctor. When can she run again?  That’s the real question.”  (He knows me so well. :-) )

 

“I would wait at least 4 weeks before you run again and even then I would ease into it”, my doctor advised me.

 

This week, I hit the 4 week mark and I’m feeling closer to my old self again, except for the hamstring and pelvic muscles I pulled during the birth and honestly, I find that to be the most bizarre occurrence.  In three years of running (2 marathons, 3 triathlons and 4 half marathons), I’ve never pulled a hamstring muscle, but squeezing out an 8 lb, 10 oz  baby caused all kinds of muscle strain.  And just for the record, running a marathon is WAY easier than giving birth.

 

Today as I roll into the 4 week mark, I feel like walking to celebrate.  Unfortunately, it’s raining buckets here, so I’ll have to put off walking for one more day.  *sigh*

 

But truthfully, I’m really looking forward to running again after my postpartum visit in two weeks.  WOOHOO!

Any Day Now

Posted on by Run DMT
38

By the sight of my belly button, I would say that Run DMT Baby #3 is about done baking.

 

 

The sight of my swollen feet is another sign that this baby is due to arrive any day now. Hopefully, I can squeeze another pedicure in before then, because I’m a little tired of looking at Nickelodeon slime green “Beach Sherbet” on my puffy piggies.

 

 

Any color suggestions for my toes?

 

Peek-a-Boo! We See You!

Posted on by Run DMT
15

For my 36 week ultrasound this week, the whole family tagged along to sneak a peek at baby brother.  Allana was most excited since she has such vivid memories of viewing her baby sister for the first time five years ago.  “Remember how I knew it was a girl, Mommy?”

 

The girls giggled and laughed over the tiny 3-D image on the computer screens.

 

“He has our nose and Mommy’s lips!”

 

“We can see his boy parts!”

 

 

 

The ultrasound technician amplified his heartbeat for everyone to hear.  Emmalynn loved hearing and seeing his strong beating heart jump across the screen.  “Again!  Again!”  Emmalynn hollered out excitedly.

 

 

Although the scheduled ultrasound gave us a small sneak preview at Run DMT Baby #3, it also predicted the size of the baby.  Much to everyone’s disappointment except for me Thankfully, the U/S tech and my doctor predict under 8 pounds.  In fact, the doctor predicted around 7.5 (same birth weight as Emmalynn).

 

 

From the U/S, we learned that little baby brother has turned, but hasn’t dropped into position just yet.  The staff could also determine that my fluids and innards look good.  Apparently, the little guy is really happy in there.

 

 

But I think he knows he’s safe in there away from the loving cuddly arms clutches of his big sisters.

 

 

ETA: These photos were a collaborative family effort between Allan, Allana, Emmalynn and me.

 

PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily

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Juneathon 2010, End of Days

Posted on by Run DMT
3

The last few days of the Juneathon have been the toughest for me. My youngest has been sick and her illness combined with my sciatica seemed to suck any and all energy out of me. Her ailments included her high fevers and a nasty cough, therefore, a visit to the pool with the girls was out of the question and I was unable to swim for sciatica relief.

 

Day 25 – After my accidental two mile hike on the beach, I barely had the strength to move on Friday. After a few laps in the pool, I was toast.

 

Day 26 – Thankfully, I felt much better on Saturday and I spent most of the morning treading water and swimming in the Gulf. I loved every minute of it.

 

Day 27 – On Sunday, we had to pack up and head back home, I could only fit in some squats.

 

Day 28 – My youngest was sick and the only exercise I got was carrying loads of laundry up and down our stairs.

 

Day 29 – Emmalynn still had high fevers off and on. I did some yoga for sanity reasons.

 

Day 30 – On the last day of the Juneathon, we went to a pool party today. I had hoped to finally get my swim on again, but the outer bands of Hurricane Alex foiled any pool plans. I suffered through a set of 50 squats instead.

 

I had hoped to have done a better job for this year’s Juneathon, but at least I tried. Unfortunately, my feeble attempts won’t score me any Vibrams. Should I play the pregnancy card? Do you think I will I gain any sympathy for my sore sciatica?

 

Probably not.

Warning: Groins, Feet and Tears Subject to Swelling

Posted on by Run DMT
17

This weekend, my family and I will be spending time in Treasure Island with friends for our annual beach weekend getaway.  Since our other mini-vacations were canceled this year due to allergies and illness, Allan and I chose to turn our weekend away into a mini vacation and arrived at the beach on Wednesday.

 

On our vacation agenda, Allan wanted to take the girls fishing at sunrise.  I’ve never known my husband to get up at the crack of dawn and I was pretty impressed with his initiative.  Thursday morning, the girls woke up before the crack of dawn and their excitement and a cup of coffee was all Allan needed to get moving.

 

I tagged along to capture the moment in photos.

 

 

 

 

 

It seemed it was going to be a while before anyone caught anything, so I decided to take a little stroll along the shore for some shelling and to fit in some fitness for my Juneathon efforts.  Thinking I would only be gone for a little while, I left my flip-flops and water with Allan and the girls and headed south along the shore.

 

My shelling stroll quickly turned into a beach clean-up when I found several empty beer cans in the sand.  Finding the beer cans infuriated me.  With the blankets of oil arriving on the shores of Pensacola and the rest of Florida watching and waiting for the sludge to hit our shores, some drunken idiot must have interpreted the oil spill on our beaches as a landfill.

 

 

 

Even though bending over to pick anything up in the last few weeks of my pregnancy has been pretty painful, it felt good to clean up this small stretch of the beach.  After my mini beach clean-up, it was time to return to my family.  In the distance, I could see some hot pink and brown, so it seemed they were still casting away.  But as I came closer to their fishing spot, I realized my shoes and water bottle were missing and the hot pink person appeared further in the distance.  I assumed my family chose to try another fishing spot at the pier.

 

As I made my way to the pier to join my family, I chuckled how my husband left me barefoot and pregnant on the beach, but the morning heat was no laughing matter.  As I waddled along, I began to feel dehydrated and tired.

 

 

When I arrived at the pier, there were no signs of family but plenty of other signs.  I’ve never known groins to wave, but much like the Gulf, my pelvic muscles and my feet were beginning to swell.

 

 

It then dawned on me that my family must have returned to the hotel room.  After reading all the warning signs on the pier, I contemplated waving down Turtle Patrol or the beach police for a ride back to my hotel.

 

Swallowing down my tears, my cotton mouth, the pelvic pain, my aching bare feet and my frustration for not taking my water with me or my phone, I had no other choice but to begin walking back to the hotel room.  As I added the distance in my head, the numbers and the heat made me woozy.  Visions of headlines flashed in my head.  Passed Out Pregnant Mom Mistaken for Beached Whale

 

I passed a nesting sanctuary and I wished my own nesting had been sanctified.  Why didn’t I take my water?  Why didn’t my husband leave my water bottle? Maybe he did but some other self-righteous beach lover threw it away.  Why didn’t he scratch a note in the sand for me? I realized once again that my husband and I need to work on our communication skills since sand sketches and skywriting are out of the question although texting is definitely his strength.

 

 

I finally arrived back at the hotel two miles and two hours later swollen, overheated, thirsty, tired and tearful but much wiser.

 

 

PhotoStory Friday
Hosted by Cecily

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Juneathon, Days 18-24

Posted on by Run DMT
1

For the past couple of weeks, I have found it easier to blog about a week’s worth Juneathon activities in one post.  This may be breaking the Juneathon rules, but at this point I think my preggo piggy toes couldn’t fit into a pair of Vibram Five Finger Classics anyhow.  *sigh* Oh well. On with the Juneathon journaling!

 

Day 18 – Friday was the girls’ last swim class at the YMCA and I was really looking forward to another morning of swimming, but a nasty storm rolled in which forced everyone leave the premise of the pool.  So, I had to plan another way to fit fitness in that day and since I can always squeeze in some squats, I did a set of 50.  Later that night, the girls and I walked to a neighborhood party which was about a half mile from our house.

 

Day 19 – Outside of swimming, most physical activity is pretty challenging these days.  I attempted another set of 50 squats with lots of rest in between each set of 10.

 

Day 20 – Since Sunday was Father’s Day, most of my activities that day were tending to Dad.  HA!  Yeah right.  It sounded good though, didn’t it? In the evening, the girls rode their bikes while we walked behind them for about a mile.

 

Day 21 – I was in a ridiculous amount of pain on Monday due to my sciatica.  One concerned friend asked if I was in labor, but it wasn’t any sort of labor pain, just plain ol’ pain in the form of constant back pain.  I couldn’t even move.  It hurt to stand.  It hurt to sit.  Therefore, the only exercise I attempted on Monday was opening the freezer and reaching for an ice pack.

 

Day 22 – I felt 100% better on Tuesday and made up for lost time.  Besides all the housework and climbing up and down the stairs, I also threw in a set of push-ups.

 

Day 23 – Wednesday we arrived at the beach and I walked about a mile along the pier at John’s Pass in Madeira Beach.  That evening, the girls and I swam in the hotel pool.

 

Day 24 – This morning I walked two miles on the beach, but not on purpose.  It’s quite a tale, which I will share tomorrow for Photo Story Friday.