Running Away, and It's Not a Reminder

Or: Trying to Tie Together Two Seemingly Different Topics with One Ambiguous Post Title

Ever since I got the clearance from the Dr. to run, I've been trying to get my old body back. No, not the REALLY old, rather large one. The post-college, professional, healthy, (sorta) clean-living one. The one that's run two marathons, taught millions of fitness classes, twisted itself into yoga-inspired pretzels.

It's gonna be a long road. That 20's metabolism has gone kerflooey, making it much harder to whip myself back into shape. Throw in a healthy dose of sobbing, sporadic eating, and nightly red wine and a fitness plan is right out the window.

That's not to say I've not been trying. Actually, I'm NOT trying. It's sheer survival instinct that puts one foot in front of the other. Fear of my brain exploding out my ears really puts a spring in my running step. Plainly: if I don't exercise my body, my brain will take over and right now, that's not a great game plan.

Running, yoga; these have for so long been a part of my life, I no longer have to think about HOW to do them. Sure, it's advisable to be mindful during yoga practice. But for now? I can let my body remember where to go, how to move so I can turn my brain right off. Or let it wander. I try to stay away from the complete sadness, and try to focus on the happier aspects of being pregnant with Calla. I've got a solid 8 months on which to focus--8 months minus one day. My body, the muscles, take over the thinking during practice. It's quite freeing.

Same thing with running. I couldn't wait to get out of the house to run, but was nervous about how crappy I knew I'd feel. Amazingly? My body simply took over. Just go, it says. Pace be damned, I can just go, and blissfully feel something other than the physical ache of my empty arms. It's like therapy without the talking.


So what about this reminder thingy? On a complete non-sequitur, many people have expressed their sadness and condolences, but have not wanted to make me upset. Their kindness is genuine and sincere, and it touches my heart. But how can I say, without sounding like a complete jerk, that by saying they're sorry, it's not reminding me? Because I am ALWAYS. THINKING. ABOUT. MY. DEAD. BABY. And it actually--perversely?--gives me comfort to know others are thinking of her, too. As they say, you're only truly gone if you are forgotten.

And, son of a gun, I just won't ever forget.

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Pregnant

Well, maybe not ANYTHING. Eating my favorite spicy tuna roll, washed down with a giant icy can of Sapporo is going to have to wait a few more months.



But I'm talking about running. Ahhh yes, my old frenemy--running.



The first time I was pregnant I was a bit of a worrywort. I stopped running about 4 months in, mostly out of discomfort, but partly too out of concern. What was all that sloshing around doing to my little alien baby?



With the Deuce, I've already run in two races, and am signed up for at least two more this Fall. Just 5k's, but they keep me motivated to get my weekly runs logged in. I am DETERMINED to run right to the Turkey Trot, and possibly beyond. That will put the Deuce at about 7 months gestation, and I think we can do it.



What other people think is an entirely different bag. My belly is getting significantly bigger. I'm actually thrilled about this, as we're passed the, "Boy, MB should really lay off the chips and dip" stage to "Oh, I guess she's just pregnant again" stage. We're not quite at the, as Christopher so lovingly dubbed it, "Preggo-mundo" stage.



As I was huffing and puffing my way down Delaware this morning, I noticed I was getting some out and out stares from people driving by. Now, I know it's a real sexy look, sweaty tomato face and all, but I can't help but wonder if they're judging me.



Duh, of course they're judging me! They're human, we are all guilty of that (yes, even you). I have read a LOT about running while pregnant. I've spent time lurking on pregnant-runner forums and have consulted with my doctor. Everything I do is perfectly safe, and since I've been working out for more than half my life, I am pretty aware of what's happening with my body. When it hurts, we're done.



I see the looks on the old lady faces, the disapproving glances and open-mouthed stares. Oh well. I'm no Olympian, but I feel like if I keep running, and doing and going, it helps other women and my own kids see what our bodies can do. As much time as I have spent agonizing over my body and its shape, I'm pretty happy it can do lots of wonderful things.



Like hauling around my huge self, with one along for the ride.