|June 9, 2014||Posted by Lauren under LifeontheRun|
Just when you think you’ve finally adjusted to your new routine. When you’re feeling pretty good about yourself because you just might have things together…and sometimes even manage to get everything done ahead of time instead of waiting until the last minute.
At the moment when you’re still riding out a runner’s high because you finally managed to run over 20 miles in one week for the first time since last fall. You’ve even had a few really good runs where you’ve been able to push and what do you know – despite the heat and the dead legs and the heaving lungs, you realize just how much you’ve missed this. How that deep, slightly twisted part of your brain that has formed over so many years of running is now rejoicing at the pain. Is brimming over with joy because your heart is pounding through your chest and you’re trying to hold on…just hold on for one more mile.
So when you’re feeling good about a strong week of running and that nice, productive weekend. When you’re excited that it’s Sunday night at 8:30, the baby is sleeping, most of your stuff is packed for the next day and you are ready to sit down on the couch and enjoy what is sure to be another exciting episode of Game of Thrones with your husband.
And right before that moment – when you’re patting yourself on the back for being so awesome at life, you realize that you need to sterilize your pump parts. So you put a pot on the stove to boil, dump in the parts, and once again congratulate yourself for thinking of doing this now…instead of at 6:00 Monday morning.
It’s just at that moment, the moment when you almost feel like superwoman, that the universe decides to throw you a fun little reminder that you’re not really as put-together as you’re pretending to be.
Because somehow, suddenly, it’s an hour later and you’re jolted out of your Game of Thrones-induced stupor by a weird sizzling sound. A sound that can only be made by plastic pump parts that have been sitting in a boiling hot pot for an hour…a pot that has finally run out of water.
And wouldn’t you know it – when plastic meets hot metal, it melts.
Yeah, so there’s that. Already winning at life this week.
In case you were wondering – it’s probably not a good idea to boil your pump parts for more than the recommended 20 minutes.
Also Game of Thrones and multitasking do not mix. Lesson learned.
|May 30, 2014||Posted by Lauren under Running|
Sometimes you need to give yourself a little tough love.
I turned 30 this week. A brand new decade. A time to put my youth and wild party days behind me and finally become a mature adult.
Which is why I celebrated with dirt cake…just like I have every year since I turned 7
Obviously kidding about that last part (not sure I ever had those days). I actually feel surprisingly okay with turning 30. While I am far from having my life completely together (does anyone ever?), I feel pretty good about where I am. And I certainly don’t feel any older…age is just a number, right?
But it’s sort of impossible to enter a new decade without doing any sort of reflection about the important things in life. And yes, I include running in that category — not just because I’m now officially in a more competitive age group. (yikes!)
For the past 5 months, I’ve sort of been waiting around for things to just magically fall into place. I even said that in an email the other day to Aron, the Runner Formerly Known as Runner’s Rambles (whose baby is only a week younger than Amelia and one of the cutest kids I have ever seen. I’m already negotiating the arranged marriage. You know, for when Amelia is finally allowed to marry at 30). I was lamenting (as I so often do) about how tough it has been to adjust to my new schedule, how it can be hard to fit in running, and how I can’t really fathom having the time to train right now.
I know there’s an adjustment period, but things will somehow all fall into place one day, right?
Stepping back, I realize how silly that notion is. Sure, in some way things have come together with time. I’ve gotten into a new routine, adjusted to being a mom and being back at work, and have even felt better on recent runs than I did when I first started back up. Eventually I’m sure I will get to the point where I don’t even remember what my old life was like.
I’m also making an effort to be patient with myself and focus instead on enjoying as much of this first year as I possibly can. It’s already going by so much faster than I had anticipated.
But the truth is — when it comes to training, things don’t just fall into place. Not really, anyway. Any runner who has trained for and run a PR effort knows that they didn’t just sit back for a few months and wait for everything to come together on race day. It takes work. It takes re-committing to your goal every single day. Putting in time and effort to achieve it.
This is something I’ve thought a lot about lately. For the past few months, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that again. I’ve been wondering if I even wanted training to have a place in my new life, or if I just felt like it was something I should be doing because it has been a part of my life for so long. You all have been so patient and encouraging as I have tried to figure it all out (and sort of whined about the process on the blog).
There is absolutely nothing wrong with giving it up — whether the break is forever or just a few years. Babies are only babies for such a short time. It’s not something I ever want to sacrifice in the name of running. The loss just isn’t worth it.
But I’m finally at the point where I think I can manage both. As long as I focus on quality training and not quantity, I know I can put in the work to start getting back into shape again. I mentioned in my last post that the itch was back, and over the past couple of weeks it’s only gotten stronger. My mileage is still low, but I’m starting to see little glimmers of speed again. Just enough to make me crave it. To finally feel ready to work to achieve it.
I think I just needed time. My re-entry to postpartum running was not really the joyful, easy return I had envisioned. Things felt weird and off for so long. And the comeback is humbling. When you’re pregnant, it’s easy to slow down and hold back because you know you are doing important work growing a new life every day. But this in-between stage of no longer being pregnant but not really in any shape to push hard is just strange. It’s slow and awkward and clunky. And humbling. Did I mention how humbling it is to have to basically start from scratch again?
But that’s where I am. So it’s time to stop just talking about getting back into shape and actually do something about it. Time to put up or shut up, if you will. This post serves as my official declaration. My commitment to less talk, less over-analyzing and waffling and more action. Training begins now.
Shiny new toy!
To help, I’ve got a brand new training toy and an exciting race on the calendar — the 100 on 100 relay in August! This is a race I’ve wanted to do for a long time and I’m so excited that we finally have a team together. I’d also love to go back and defend my title at this trail race in July…and of course am still toying with the idea of a fall marathon. I don’t expect to be in PR shape by then, but since this November will mark 2 years since my last full, I think it would be a good idea to run one just to shake the rust off. We will see. The actual race I want to train for is still TBD. I may be ready to start putting in the work, but I still have some commitment issues.
Now who wants to come babysit Amelia?
|May 14, 2014||Posted by Lauren under Running|
There hasn’t been much talk about running here lately because, quite frankly, there hasn’t been much running. After (barely) training for that half marathon and then running it faster than I had any business going, it will surprise no one to learn that I needed a full 3 weeks to recover. Like I always say: stupid training leads to stupid results.
Okay, so I’ve never said that before in my life, but I think I’m going to adopt it as my new training mantra this year.
I don’t regret what I did, although in hindsight I probably should have put a little more emphasis on building up strength to compliment my “run less miles in a week than you will cover on race day” training plan. Running the half was incredibly humbling, but it was also a fun accomplishment that served as a much-needed confidence booster.
So while I wasn’t surprised that I needed so long to recover from that effort, what did surprise me was how easily I adjusted to not running. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t seriously trained for anything in over a year, or maybe it’s that I haven’t even really felt like a runner since I had to drastically cut back my mileage in late pregnancy. Or maybe I’m just used to taking long gaps of time off running by this point. But whatever the reason, those 3 weeks of not running passed by in a blur. I missed running in the way that you miss a good piece of chocolate – not something you need to have daily (or really, ever I suppose), just something that in the back of your mind you know could make you happy (oh you don’t also feel this way about chocolate….?). And I was only mildly annoyed that I couldn’t do it.
Like every year, I watched the Boston Marathon with excitement. And there was a small part of me that wished I was running, just to be a part of the experience. But for the most part I didn’t really give too much thought to the fact that I couldn’t run, or that I wasn’t really a part of that running community I (used to) love so much. I avoided reading running-related blogs and could only muster a tiny bit of excitement when it came to other people’s races.
It got to the point where I seriously started thinking it was time to move on. Maybe that part of my life was over. I’ve had a good run (har har), but I have different priorities now. Life is busier than ever, I’m slower and more out of shape than ever, and it’s a whole lot more complicated to fit in a run and actually train for a race. Maybe it was time to find a new interest. Or at the very least, give up my racing goals and just become a hobby jogger, running the occasional 2-4 miles to stay in some semblance of shape. We all know I’m not qualifying for the Olympics or going pro anytime soon (read: ever), so what’s the point? In fact, I even contemplated changing the blog name to HealthontheHobbyJog…but that didn’t have quite the same ring.
I think you all know where this is going…
Last Sunday, something happened. After a full 3 weeks of short walks, minimal strength training, and one miserable half hour on the elliptical, I finally decided to go on a test run. My hip/butt didn’t seem to hurt when I walked and the elliptical was a success, so I figured it was worth a shot. I tentatively laced up my shoes, grabbed my phone (since my Garmin was lying dead at the bottom of a pile of running gear), and headed out for a couple miles. Since I sort of expected the pain to flare up at any second, I was pleasantly surprised when I got through that first mile without feeling a thing. I kept running and was suddenly hit by the realization that I didn’t just have an absence of pain – I actually felt great. It was like I was never injured. The further I went the more the adrenaline kicked in until I literally felt like I was floating on air. It was one of those amazing runner’s high inducing runs where everything comes together and feels almost effortless.
For the entire 3.5 miles, the only thought in my head was: “I forgot how much I missed this!!”
And that’s when I knew. I may not be anywhere close to the level of runner I was before pregnancy. I may only be running a few days a week, a few miles at a time. And running as I know it may never be the same. But it really doesn’t matter. The sport has wormed its way so deep into my heart and my mind that I can’t imagine a life without it.
Running – I don’t know why I ever doubted. I just can’t quit you.
And do you want to know the craziest thing of all? I’m running faster now than I did before I took my three week hiatus. Granted, it’s still much slower than before, but I find that I’m actually able to maintain somewhere around an 8:00 pace without feeling like I want to die. I even had a run the other day where I pushed the pace just for fun, managing negative splits and paces in the last 2 miles that I usually only dream about. It was like running that half marathon was the reminder my body needed that it has other gears it can switch into. I have a long way to go before it remembers how to access all of them, but it’s a start.
So the moral of this rambling post? I still feel a little weird saying I’m a runner when I’m only running 3 – 5 miles at a time, a few times a week. But the itch is back. I’m trying really hard to avoid riding this excitement into another injury, so for now I’m coming back slowly. I ran 4 times from Sunday – Sunday and the goal is to get in a total of 4 runs again this week, with strength training on the off days. Maybe someday soon I’ll be back to consistently running 5-6 days per week, feeling like a serious runner again.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
|May 2, 2014||Posted by Lauren under LifeontheRun|
…or 4 months in. I suppose it’s all how you look at it.
Remember when I said I wanted to write a 3-month postpartum update, because it seemed like that was a pretty significant amount of time (the end of the 4th trimester and all)? Well I guess I missed that window. So I started typing up a 4-month post the other day, got maybe a quarter of the way through and realized I was boring even myself. Which is a pretty sure sign I shouldn’t publish it. So instead, here is a somewhat random collection of 4-month updates, thoughts, and confessions. I can’t promise it won’t bore you, but at least it’s easy to skim in this format.
The most common thing people want to know (I think) is if I’ve lost all the baby weight yet. I’m finding the answer to be a lot more complicated than it seems. I lost a good chunk of weight pretty quickly and then it sort of stalled out a couple of months ago (I’m sure the almost nightly treats I consume have nothing to do with it!). Technically, I have maybe 5-6 pounds to go before I reach my starting weight (i.e. my weight at my initial 6 week OB appointment a year ago). And honestly – I’m expecting those extra pounds to hang around until Amelia is weaned.
Totally unflattering shot to demonstrate the belly at 11 weeks pp. At least Amelia looks cute!
But – extra pounds or not, my body is shaped very differently. Although my hips aren’t quite as curvy as they were a couple of months ago and I no longer look pregnant when I remember to stand up straight and suck in my belly, I’m just soft. So yes, my clothes fit again (yay!) but they don’t all look as good on me as I remember.
The only parts of my body that are somewhat toned are my biceps — from lugging around a car seat, 500 bags, and a baby on a regular basis – and my calves – from carrying around so much extra weight over this past year. As for the rest? Well…let’s just say I now have quite the collection of cellulite.
I swore many times during pregnancy that I would not miss a single thing about it. Turns out that wasn’t quite true. Over the past few months, I’ve realized that I miss two things: 1. Not having to suck in my stomach. It was so freeing to just let it all hang out! and 2. The thick luscious locks that never shed. I am in the middle of some massive postpartum hair loss. My drains are so full that it’s a wonder I have anything left on my head.
Maybe that’s because at this point, pregnancy sort of seems like it was one long dream. It’s funny to me that you spend the better part of a year pregnant and then once it’s done (and you’ve recovered physically), it’s almost like you never were. I mean, sure, I have lasting physical reminders – my cavernous belly button, the canyon down the middle of my abs (more on that in a second), and oh yeah, that lovely scar. But for the most part I just feel like myself. And I ALMOST forget what it was like to be pregnant. Almost.
Last weekend before baby. Coat not even close to zipping
Labor and delivery though? Nope. No way. I am not sure I will ever be able to forget that.
As I mentioned above, I still have a lovely gap between my abdominal muscles. I wish I had known more about diastasis recti before and during pregnancy. My midwives never talked to me about it, and I just assumed a large separation between your ab muscles was normal. I’m sure I did things during pregnancy that didn’t help the issue…things I would have avoided had I known. Fortunately in the almost 19 weeks since I’ve given birth the gap has decreased — from about 3+ fingers 6 weeks pp to about one finger width at its widest point (around my belly button). So it’s not healed, but at least it’s slowly moving in the right direction. After months of doing nothing for fear that any core exercise would make it worse, I finally talked to my friend Kathleen at Oh baby! fitness. She gave me some really helpful suggestions and I’ve been working hard to engage my transverse abdominals ever since. Still haven’t given in and bought a splint yet. (FYI: some really helpful information about diastasis recti here.)
Except – your transverse abdominals are hard to find! Or at least, they are after they’ve been dormant for almost a year. I’ve been working on scooping or “hollowing” my belly – basically pulling my belly button into my spine — periodically throughout the day. Since I spend so much time sitting in the car, I practice during my commute (about the only productive thing I do during those 2.5 hours). But I really have to focus. The second I stop thinking about my posture, I’m slumped down with my “beer belly” hanging out once again.
Partly based on a recommendation from K and partially out of desperation from not being able to run, I signed up for Barre3 online classes. I will admit that I expected to be underwhelmed, and really didn’t see myself lasting beyond the 15-day free trial (I’m just against paying for online exercise classes). 10 minutes in to my first workout and my legs were toast!! Granted, there’s a lot more cellulite in there than muscle these days (see above) but still. I take back any negative thoughts I had about it…and will even admit that I’m sort of loving it. It’s a workout that I can easily do any time and since I’m still not running, it feels good to do something else active that doesn’t seem to bother my bum (I just modify/omit any core exercises that focus on the obliques for now). Plus, anything that works on toning said bum and those pesky transverse abdominals is good in my book.
I have become sort of obsessed with cloth diapers.
Look, I know that the concept of using cloth to catch my baby’s poo, washing it in the same machine that cleans my clothes, and then reusing it is probably disgusting to many of you. Or at least probably doesn’t sound like your definition of fun. But I’m telling you…there’s something about those cute diapers that’s addicting. I can see now why people build up ridiculously large stashes. I’m one of those people who ordered a bunch of different kinds initially to try them out, and now I want more of my favorites (plus there’s so many more to try!). And yes, we are using them at daycare. This is more of a testament to the amazing teachers in the infant room than anything else, but it did take a little negotiating (side note: I’d be happy to write a post about using cloth diapers, particularly if you are working…if anyone is interested. But my main advice is if you want to use them in daycare: know your state’s regulations! They may be more helpful than you think).
I’ve bared my chest in more public places during the past 4 months than ever before in my entire life. Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not walking around uncovered with the baby on my hip nursing at will, but you know, the baby gets hungry and she doesn’t really care where we are when that happens. I mean, in what other situation would I feel comfortable going partially topless at the office? (Answer: none). Luckily this whole nursing thing is becoming easier and feeling more natural all the time.
Really this whole being a mom thing is like that. Sometimes it is still strange to call myself a mom; to say that I have a daughter. But I’m amazed by how natural it feels. It’s not that I always know what to do, because I certainly don’t have most of the answers. But having a child of my own — it’s this huge life adjustment but also like nothing has changed, all at the same time.
Related: I’m amazed by how much I have absolutely loved this baby stage. When Evan and I used to talk about the future, it was always about having kids…little people to do fun things with. I knew they’d be babies first, but the pictures in my head of our future family were always when they were older. And although I knew I liked babies, I was mostly excited about the kid stage. Except now that I have one I can’t even believe how much I love her at this age. It’s a lot of work, sure, but it’s way more fun than I ever imagined. I literally get to watch someone learn and grow right before my eyes. What’s more incredible than that?
Little girl loves her books! Reading with Gram on Easter.
Speaking of babies, I’m sure you will all believe me when I say that Amelia is the most perfect, most wonderful baby ever (ha!). No but really, she’s pretty laid-back for the most part and I know we lucked out in that department. Which is why I sort of (kind of) hoped we’d breeze through the dreaded 4 month sleep regression. After all, she has always been a pretty good sleeper, and slept through the night at a fairly early age (don’t hate me). Shows how naive we are. I think (hope!) we are finally at the tail end of it, but I will tell you that it was worse than all those middle of the night, round the clock newborn feedings. At least then you expect to be up all night! I have never been closer to napping at my desk every afternoon than I was this past week.
Good thing she’s so cute! It’s hard to stay grumpy when I see that little face.
And finally — it took me an entire week to write this post. But at least I got it done before the 5-month mark. Little victories.
|April 19, 2014||Posted by Lauren under Running|
Like most of the running world, my thoughts (and heart) are focused on Boston this weekend. I’ve read articles, watched news stories, followed along with many runners who are preparing to run. While I don’t regret my ultimate decision to not register for this year’s race (in fact, looking back at pregnantLC I now wonder what I was even thinking), there is still a small part of me that wishes more than anything that I could be one of the thousands running the streets of Boston on Monday. Or at least be on the sidelines cheering (which is looking less and less likely as race day approaches). Best of luck to everyone running! I will be virtually cheering for all of you!
Last Saturday I ran my first race postpartum…which also happened to be my longest run in over a year. The result? It went way better than expected. Official time: 1:48:28 (8:17/mile). Besides a few small aches in my knees and pelvis/groin by the end, I felt surprisingly good. Not really like my “old” self, but it’s amazing how quickly the muscle memory comes back. Almost like I never took any time off at all.
The downside to all this is that I seem to have irritated my SI joint without realizing it. Despite the fact that it did not hurt at all during the race, I woke up the next morning with what I initially thought was sciatica. Long story short, a week of pain and a little research later, I’m pretty sure I have SI Joint Dysfunction, a problem that is common during pregnancy and after childbirth. More about that later. For now, let’s focus on the fun part, shall we?
The end result was better than I could have asked for, but the entire event didn’t go quite as seamlessly as that. Here’s how it all went down.
Half Marathon Unplugged Recap
Night before, sometime around 9:00pm
I walk aimlessly around the house, trying to gather up everything I’ll need for race day but not quite remembering how this part of the routine goes. I get out a top and running shorts but beyond that I’m sort of lost. Suddenly remember that I have no fuel for the race. And although I never used to take anything besides water/Nuun during the half marathon distance, circumstances are a little different now. I briefly entertain the idea of running out to the store to find something (anything!) with calories…before remembering that this is Vermont and everything closes around 8:00pm. Decide not to worry and go to bed instead.
Sometime in the middle of the night
Darling child, who otherwise sleeps through the night (yes, I realize how lucky we are) has brought another cold home from daycare and wakes up in the middle of the night because she can’t breathe (poor baby). Stumble into the room and try to quickly suck her nose out, which succeeds only in making her mad. Abandon that idea and try to coax her back to sleep. After what seems like only a few minutes later, she wakes up again. This time I “accidentally” kick Evan awake and he goes in to wrap her back up and give her the pacifier.
6:00AM race morning
Alarm goes off. Baby, of course, is now sleeping soundly. Stumble around the house trying to gather up my things and prepare breakfast. Realize we have absolutely no food in the house besides one old, stale bagel (yum). Laugh at how completely unprepared for this whole thing I am. Make the last minute decision to stop at a local cafe on the way to the race for food and coffee.
Gently wake up baby. Feed her and then rush around the house trying to gather up everything she’ll need for the day. Kick myself for forgetting to get Amelia’s stuff ready last night while I was gathering up my own. On a whim, grab a couple handfuls of jelly beans and stuff them in a baggy for the race. Hey, sugar is sugar, right? Somehow make it out of the house relatively on time.
9:45 – 11:00 AM
Make it to packet pick up and then drive over to the start. Find a parking spot right behind the porta-potties and nurse the baby in the backseat of the car while other runners stretch outside. Pump out a few extra ounces to ensure I’m slightly more…comfortable. Nothing like a good nursing/pumping session to really “pump” you up for a race! Manage to make it to the start with a few minutes to spare.
Team Watermelon – cutest cheerleader on the course!
Miles 1 – 4
With very little fanfare, the announcer yells go and the crowd surges. I surge with them, falling in step with the lead women. I look at the small lean runners around me and size them up, assessing the competition. I am light…I am floating…I am fast…for about 30 seconds, anyway. Then I look at my watch, remember I have no business keeping that pace for 1 mile, let alone 13, and crash right back to reality.
For the rest of that first mile, it’s hard to get in the zone. I can’t find my groove. I’m thinking about how out of shape I am, how running doesn’t feel as smooth and effortless as it used to. I find myself wishing I was fit and strong, annoyed that I can’t run the race like my old self. Hating the clunky, awkward feeling of my stride.
And then Avicii comes on my playlist singing, “I can’t tell where the journey will end, but I know where to start.” It’s exactly what I need to hear to snap me out of my weird funk. This race wasn’t the result of weeks of hard training — it’s the beginning of a new journey. I don’t know how long it’ll take to get back to my pre-pregnancy racing self, or if I ever will be that runner again. But I’ve got to start somewhere.
I finally relax, focus on having fun and enjoying the day. The sun is shining and spring is in the air. And I’m running! Life is good.
Miles 5 – 8
The first four miles of the race wind through neighborhoods before entering the bike path. It’s flat and beautiful. For the first 5 miles, I didn’t allow myself to look at my watch (besides that moment immediately after the start) for fear that a) I would realize I was going too fast and panic or b) I would see how slow I was running and become frustrated. Instead I’ve tried to run completely by feel. Gauging my effort and keeping things relaxed. So when I look down at 5 miles in and notice that I’m averaging an 8:0X pace, I’m pleasantly surprised. A little panicked, since my only real goal had been to keep it under 10:00–okay, fine, 9:00–minute miles. But I feel completely in control of the pace. I figure my body will slow down when it needs to.
After that, my focus is on making it to Evan and Amelia. I know they’re somewhere around Mile 6 with Nuun and jelly beans. I see so many moms and dads on the sidelines with their babies — waiting while their partner runs. I can’t even believe how happy that makes me…how excited I feel to be a part of that group now (cheesy, I know. But true!).
Suddenly I see them on the side of the bike path and I feel a surge of energy. I say hello, quickly take a couple sips of Nuun, grab the jelly beans and continue running. The moment goes by way too fast. As soon as I’ve left them behind I wonder why I didn’t linger longer…there was still a long way to go before I would see them again.
I start to get a little hungry so I suck on a few jelly beans. Not quite the race fuel of champions, but desperate times… Unfortunately all the candy does is make me thirstier. After this endless, frigid winter, 60 degrees feels so much warmer than I’m used to and all I can think about is getting to that next water station sometime after the 7 mile marker. I finally make it there, gulp down water and hope I have enough energy to get through the next 6 miles.
Splits: Miles 5 – 8
Unfortunately, just one mile later things start catching up to me. I’m starting to feel a little achey…the miles taking their toll. I don’t feel out of energy, but I don’t feel super pumped about running 5 more miles either. And I’m thirsty. So incredibly thirsty. I curse myself for not carrying water with me…or at least taking the Nuun from Evan a couple miles ago. I should have known – I drink a lot of water normally. Add breastfeeding to the mix and my thirst is out of control. I start fantasizing about the next water stop – 3 miles away. I tell myself I just need to make it there. The miles keep ticking by. I try not to look at my watch too much but can tell I’m slowing down a little. At mile 10 I eat a few more jelly beans to celebrate making it to double digits…and almost immediately regret it (so much sugar, so little water). Just 3 more miles to go, I tell myself. That’s nothing.
Finally make it to the water stop and grab two cups, sucking them down like I haven’t had a drink in days.
Splits: Miles 8 – 11
Miles 12 – Finish
The last two miles are the worst. We turn off the bike path and into the park. I notice fast runners coming back toward me in the other direction, and I start to wonder just how far they had to run before turning around. We weave into a neighborhood and up hills that feel a lot steeper than they should. I see the 12 mile marker but we still aren’t turning around. I curse the course designers for putting this stupid little loop at the end. Just make it back to the park, I tell myself.
We finally get back to the park and I check my watch – 12.66 miles. The finish is closer than I thought! I cruise down the hill, round a corner and there it is. I see the clock, still under 1:50, give a final surge and “sprint” to the finish line, smiling at Evan and Amelia as I speed by. For a second I feel like my old self again – running fast and light and free.
I cross the finish line and immediately everything hurts. My quads, my groin…I feel like I’ve run a full marathon, not a half. But I made it!
Splits Miles 12 – 13.1
Hobble around for a few minutes to “loosen” up my legs. Hop in the car, nurse the baby (sorry about the sweat, Little One) and make our way to our new post-race tradition: American Flatbread. Eat my weight in pizza and for the first time ever (since I was pregnant the other two times we’ve been there) enjoy a nice refreshing beer.
Amelia gave the pizza and beer two thumbs up!
And my cute little cheerleader? She was amazing. So good and happy the whole day. And the best race day motivation I could’ve asked for.