|October 9, 2014||Posted by Lauren under LifeontheRun|
Recently Amelia and I hit a pretty big milestone. 40 weeks. Exactly the same amount of time spent on earth as she did growing on the inside…or at least according to our best estimates. Somehow this 40 weeks seems to have gone by twice as fast as the former. During pregnancy, all I wanted was for time to speed up. Now I just need it to stop.
As I’m sure you can imagine, I’ve done a lot of reflecting over these past 9 months. On pregnancy. Motherhood. Life with an infant. Running. Working. You name it, I’ve mulled over it. And now that 9 months have gone by, it seems like a good time to share some of these reflections. To wrap up this phase of life and look forward to the next one. Not that things are really changing anytime soon, but you know.
So here are a few of those reflections. Most of these are things I would tell myself if I could go back. I realize that not all of this is true for every person, but they (obviously) reflect my experience.
No matter how slowly it seems to crawl by at times, pregnancy does eventually end. It certainly doesn’t seem like it when you’re 36 weeks, achey, struggling with insomnia and heartburn, not fitting into any of your clothes and so exhausted walking up a flight of stairs leaves you winded. But I promise, it will be over before you know it. One day you will look back and the whole ordeal will feel like a lifetime ago. Something that happened to someone else; an out-of-body experience. And you will find yourself thinking “I guess 40 weeks isn’t that long…” I suppose this is how women are tricked into having more than one child.
So don’t rush it. Don’t rush the time when it’s just you and your partner. When date nights or spontaneous getaways are easy. When you can sleep all day if you want to…or stay up all night and not have to worry about functioning the next day. When it’s easy to get out for a run or do a race or even clean your whole house from top to bottom. I know you know this already, but you’ll miss it. You won’t want it back. You won’t trade how things are now for anything in the whole world. But you’ll still miss it.
No amount of exercise will guarantee you a certain type of labor and delivery. You can do everything “right” for 40 weeks — regular exercise, yoga, strengthening, mental preparation, eating all the right things. In the end it doesn’t really matter. Sure, if your body cooperates, all that exercise and mental toughness certainly will help you get through the grueling task of delivering a baby. But sometimes things don’t go according to plan. And you may find yourself in surgery, scared out of your mind on what is supposed to be the most empowering day of your life.
I don’t say this to scare you, or be all gloom-and-doom about birth. I say it just to make sure you’re aware. Because maybe you’re working out and training your mind and expecting everything to happen seamlessly. After all, women have been giving birth for centuries. And I hope it does. I really, really do. But please just be prepared for the possibility that it might not. For better or for worse, the c-section rate in this country is on the rise. So even though it probably won’t happen to you, it might. If there’s one regret that I have about my own labor & delivery experience, it’s that I didn’t prepare. I knew little about c-sections and even less about the recovery. I think my experience would not have been so scary and negative if I had done even a tiny bit of preparation before going in…and I’m pretty sure the recovery would not have felt so terrible either.
Despite all that – exercise during pregnancy (with your doctor’s permission, of course). Not because it will lead to the “labor of your dreams” (whatever that means). But because it keeps you healthy, makes you feel better, move better, ache less. It keeps you sane, eases your stress, and gives you endorphins. And because it’s good for your baby. Because you know that every step you walk or yoga pose you hold is helping your baby grow healthy and strong. I had a love/hate relationship with running while pregnant. It wasn’t always the blissful experience I expected it to be. But I did what I could for as long as I was able. Find the balance that makes you feel best.
On Postpartum Weight Loss
There’s a lot of pressure in the media and on blogs to be perfect. Have the perfect pregnancy. Exercise (but not too much), eat healthy, glow from the inside out. Have an “easy” labor and “bounce back” immediately. We as a culture are obsessed with shedding that baby weight ASAP. It’s all crap. Absolute crap.
You may bounce back. The weight might slip right off and you may get back to running/working out two weeks after baby without any problem. You may find yourself effortlessly balancing motherhood and training, and you may wonder why some women claim that it’s so difficult.
But more likely, you may not. And what’s more – you may not even care. You may look at your loose belly and wide hips and be grateful to them for the amazing work they did. You may find yourself at peace with a lower level of training than you did before baby. You may even find that training for races doesn’t have a place in your new life. That’s okay. Just because X blogger or X celebrity was below her pre-baby weight in 2 months doesn’t mean it’s normal. Just because you struggle to get back to some semblance of the person you were before, you are not alone.
Just don’t give up on exercise after that baby is born. It doesn’t have to be much. It doesn’t have to be intense. People will tell you “they’re only this small once” and it’s true. You don’t have to sacrifice time with your baby for training…don’t have to make it your top priority. But move every day. It’s good for your body and it’s good for your soul. It will help you feel like yourself again. And it sets a good example for that baby of yours. Walking, running, and hiking with Amelia are my favorite things to do now. She loves the fresh air and I love being active as a family.
That being said, don’t feel bad if you just don’t feel it. If you used to run before baby and now just don’t have the time or motivation. It’s so cliche but it’s true – the days are long but the years are short. Your priorities may or may not change. Don’t waste your time stressing about it. Someday things will fall into place.
Do not underestimate the importance of recovery. I know some women seem to be out running or working out a few weeks after giving birth, like nothing ever happened. Maybe you were one of those women who couldn’t wait to get back at it and felt amazing fairly quickly. But it’s okay if you’re not. It took a good 6 months for me to feel like “myself” again when running. It has been a slow, stunted process…an improvement that has included many plateaus. But I think my body just needed time. And I believe that the slow comeback is the reason why I find myself gradually getting faster and feeling strong every single month.
If you’re nursing, training may take a lot more out of you than it did before. It takes more calories to produce milk every day for your baby than it did to grow him/her. My OB warned me of this, but I didn’t truly appreciate that warning until I was in it. This past week I finally ran 40 miles. My first 40 mile week since early 2013. It took a long time to get there, and I will admit that I was pretty proud of myself when I did it…and subsequently exhausted. And that’s with a baby who is a good sleeper! But that working + running + nursing combination is a doozy. So don’t be too hard on yourself if you need to do less.
On Babies and Parenthood
It’s pretty easy to become that parent. You know, the annoying one who thinks her baby is a genius for finding her hands, or making eye contact, or waving…or playing peek-a-boo with you for the first time. It’s okay to think it. Your baby is way more fascinating than any other baby in the history of babies. But maybe it’s better if you just don’t share that fact with every stranger you meet. Every single milestone that we hit, I say – “this is my favorite age! I wish I could freeze her in time right here.” And then another one gets here and I love it even more.
There is something about a teeny tiny, squishy, snuggly sleeping newborn. And somehow, despite the fact that your child was a newborn not so long ago, you may find yourself missing those days sooner than you thought possible. Maybe it’s because your tiny baby has suddenly become Miss Independent – always on the move, not wanting to be fed, able to play by herself – but you find yourself aching for a tiny newborn to snuggle. And then you remember what you have to go through to get one of those newborns, and you are suddenly thankful for pregnant family and friends who will let you snuggle their baby and then return them.
The sense of pride that comes from successfully adjusting the baby without waking them up is unlike anything in this world. Despite the fact that this is more related to luck than to talent, you will find yourself rejoicing every single time you manage to do it. Last night I somehow managed to put Amelia’s socks back on her feet at 10:00PM while she snored blissfully away in her crib. By the way I danced into the room afterward, you’d think I’d just won a race…or been given a huge promotion at work.
On the flip side — there is nothing quite like the despair and dread that results from the unsuccessful attempts. When you sprint out of their room and into your own with wild fear in your eyes, trying to run from that cry you know is about to erupt. Only to face your husband accusatory: “WHAT did you do??”
Related: you also may find yourself staring at the baby monitor and obsessing over whether the baby is too hot or too cold in her crib…despite the fact that she is currently sleeping peacefully. Or maybe that’s just me. I look at the temperature, look at what she’s wearing and hem and haw over whether the window needs to be open/closed, the fan needs to be turned up/down/off, I didn’t put her in enough layers, I need to get that sock back on, etc etc etc. Evan is convinced I’m just making up an excuse to go in and check on her every night. I have no comment.
Just when you’re feeling good about yourself and how much you’ve learned over the past 9 months, how far you’ve come as a parent, you make a rookie mistake that knocks you down a peg or two. Like thoughtlessly throwing the wubannub in the wash one weekend morning and forgetting that wash cycles take awhile (and things do not air dry instantly). Amelia doesn’t have many sleep crutches, but her wubbanub is her buddy. Froggy Friend is the only pacifier we have at home (Kitty lives at daycare) and even though we only see him during naps and bedtime, I’m pretty sure she is as attached to the frog at this point as she is to the paci. So when it came time for a nap on that Saturday morning and Froggy Friend was still soaking wet in the middle of a wash cycle, we had a bit of a meltdown. I stood there rubbing her back, cursing my stupidity, and contemplating whether it would be worth it to let my child sleep with a soaking wet pacifier.
And then you might find yourself, right before it’s time for the afternoon nap, frantically blow drying Froggy Friend in order to avoid a repeat of the morning’s events (a very effective drying strategy — as long as you have the patience to sit there and do it!).
It is impossible to keep pet hair out of a crawling baby’s mouth. You could vacuum every single day and still it seems to spontaneously sprout up from the floor. Or the baby grabs the poor cat and comes away with fistfuls of hair (“gentle” is not yet in her vocabulary). I love my animals dearly, but there are days (many days) when I find myself puzzling over the absurdity of this cultural tradition of taming wild things to live in our house.
Babies also have an uncanny ability to find the teeniest tiniest grossest crumb of junk. A morsel that looks delicious only to them. And even though you may think that you are more dextrous than a 9 month old who has really just mastered that dang pincer grasp, they are lightening fast when it comes to getting such morsels into their mouth. This morning Amelia may or may not have eaten dirt from the mudroom floor while I was gathering up my stuff for work. Or maybe it was a crumb of dog food. It’s really impossible to tell. So much for that organic, no-additives diet.
Pinterest might try to tell you otherwise, but those cute, perfectly staged photo opps you envision may not always turn out like you had planned. Especially when your schedule gets thrown off, the baby is exhausted and she falls asleep 5 minutes into your apple picking excursion. You know, the one where you had planned to take all sorts of “natural” cute fall photos of her picking her first apple, sitting on a pile of pumpkins, and looking adorable in her fall gear. You may only end up with pictures of her sleeping…which, in the scheme of things, is better than pictures of a full-fledged public meltdown.
Parenting is a wild, crazy ride. Unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. I may have learned a lot in the past 9 months, but I’m still just making stuff up as I go. Hoping that this baby of mine, who I love deeper than I ever thought possible, grows up to be a happy, well-adjusted kid. I’ve heard that it just keeps getting harder. And more amazing. I can’t wait.
|September 19, 2014||Posted by Lauren under Running|
It’s National Run@Work Day! Anyone celebrating? My office is hosting our own Run/Walk@Work event next week (just want to be nonconformists, I suppose) but I’ll still be getting in a few miles during lunch today. It’s the least I could do to support the awesome sport of running, you know?
Anyway, it’s been awhile, but that’s kind of the norm around here now. So let’s just jump right in!
After 100on100, I took a full week off to recover. The event itself really deserves its own post (I keep meaning to, I promise!), but the short version is that it was an amazing, grueling race…in a completely different way than the 200-mile overnight relay.
The highlights: I was really happy with how I ran, I absolutely loved the course (every leg was scenic!), and I am already planning for next year. But more about that later.
I didn’t intend to take a week completely off running after the race, but it took longer for the desire to come back than it did for my legs to feel whole again. And in the end, I think the extended rest was good. Despite training at a lower volume than I used it, I’m finding that it takes a bigger toll on my body these days. That complete week of rest gave me the boost I needed to start ramping up again.
Now I’m happy to be back in training. The big race for the fall is the CHaD Hero Half Marathon. It feels a little strange to “just” be training for a half, but the theme of this year has been rebuilding. I really want to work on getting my endurance back, building up a little bit of speed, and making regular training a habit again.
And this race really is the perfect one to train for. The course is practically in my backyard, it’s for a great cause, Evan wants to run it too, AND my parents are coming up from NC to babysit Amelia. So basically all the stars have aligned. Although I’m pretty certain that a PR is not feasible, I really just want to get back into racing distance again. I’ll talk more about goals in a future post, but the main purpose of this is to shake the rust off and finish “competitively” (by my own standards – which basically means faster than the one I ran in April). Oh, and beating Evan would be nice. Or at least not getting smoked by him in the final sprint.
Right now the other race on my calendar is the Harpoon Brewery Octoberfest during Columbus Day weekend. This will be our 3rd year in a row running, and this year I’ve got my sights set on a case of beer. The distance is weird (3.6 miles) and the fee is a bit steeper than a typical 5K, but for awesome beer mugs and post-race drink tickets, it’s more than worth it. Plus, did I mention the cases of beer up for grabs for the top finishers?
My goal for this cycle is to build up to consistently running 6 days per week again…easier said than done, it seems! I’ve been at 5 for awhile now and honestly, that feels pretty comfortable. I don’t remember it being so difficult in the past but man, these days it tires me out. In an ideal world, I would also like to get myself back over 40 mpw for the first time since pre-pregnancy. I’ve been sitting pretty comfortably in the low/mid-30s and surprisingly, it feels like enough. If I don’t make it out of the 30s before the half, I won’t stress about it. I know I can complete one on less (though maybe wouldn’t recommend it). However, I would like to feel decently competitive at this race, which means stepping outside my comfort zone for just a few weeks.
The biggest wrench in my training lately has been the increasingly shorter days. I could write a whole post whining about this, but in the end it just sounds like a bunch of excuses. Short story long – I got into a habit of running in the early morning over the summer and, for the first time in my life, started to enjoy it (but shhhh I still won’t call myself a morning runner). Lately, however, I’m finding it harder to get myself out the door. Not just because it’s early and cold(er), but the dark makes me nervous. It’s not like I’ve never run in the dark before. There’s just something about the pre-dawn darkness at 5:30AM that feels a little more unsafe than 5:30PM.
I don’t necessarily think my greatest threat is other people. I live in a safe, low-crime area (yes, I know, I still need to be alert because anything can happen) that is also pretty rural with very few sidewalks. At least part of every single run is along the major route through town. And in the darkness of the morning, I’ve seen my life flash before my eyes a few times while running along stretches with a thin shoulder as cars speed toward me with their brights on.
I’m not sure what the best solution to this issue is. I wear reflective gear, don’t listen to music, and stay completely alert. I’ve been trying to experiment with running at different times of day, but really my best chance at running more than 5 miles is in the morning. Lunchtime runs are short, the window between finishing work and daycare closing really only gives me 45-50 minutes, and running after I get home is tough because it throws off everyone’s (read: the baby’s) schedule. Plus the dog doesn’t get his walk. Just one more thing to feel guilty about…
Yes, I know, this is a really minor problem that I’m making into a big one. In reality, I just need to suck it up and get it done when I can…just like every other person who fits training into their life. But if anyone has any tips, advice or can commiserate, I’d love to hear it!
Amelia is going to be 9 months on Sunday; 40 weeks on the 27th. Out as long as she was in. These past 9 months have gone by in a blur. She is crawling, standing, and walking with assistance. She hasn’t met a food she doesn’t love, loves going for runs with us in the BOB (she “sings” to herself on our runs) and waves at everyone and everything. Watching someone learn new skills every single day is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever gotten to experience. She has already changed so much from that teeny little newborn and I know it’s only going to keep getting better.
I still have a love/hate relationship with work. The roller coaster of loving my job and feeling as though I’m doing something meaningful one minute and hating the fact that I work the next has not really faded since I’ve been back. Fortunately, however, the ache of being away from the baby during the day that I felt in those first few weeks is long gone. I see how much she has blossomed in daycare, I see how she interacts with the kids there and I see how much she truly loves her “teachers” and it makes me happy. Makes me think that this is good for her (and for me)…or so I hope.
And in terms of my body? It’s different. Not “back” but not gone either…if that makes any sense. I plan to do more of an update on this later only because it’s relevant to running/racing, but I will tell you that as long as my body is able to run I’m happy. I’ve seen glimpses of that old speed come back during recent races and random runs (like a 6-mile sub-7 evening run that came out of nowhere), and it’s incredibly encouraging. Gradual forward progress. That’s really all anyone can ask for, I think.
|August 29, 2014||Posted by Lauren under Running|
Last year, when I was pregnant and relatively naïve about motherhood, I made lots of grand claims (both publicly and privately) about running and training post-pregnancy. It’s my first time doing this whole parenting thing after all, and so I had no frame of reference – no real idea of what life would be like on the other side. I only knew how old LBC felt about training. And Old LBC was pretty passionate about it.
I got a lot of “just you wait” comments in those days. And while I listened to them and knew they were coming from a place of good intentions, I didn’t fully understand. I figured life would be different and my priorities would shift, but I couldn’t imagine a life without wanting to train. Or one where I didn’t care if I wasn’t in great shape or my body was mushy.
Well, turns out a lot of those commenters were right – almost. Life is different, my priorities are different, and for what seemed like a long time, I wasn’t sure I would ever have the desire or energy to actually train again. Competitive LBC seemed to be gone. I felt content with just going out a few times a week for a few slow miles. Not necessarily because I was so incredibly busy (although there were times I felt like I was struggling to keep my head above water). I just didn’t want to do it. And to be perfectly honest – getting back in shape kind of sucks. It’s humbling and at times demoralizing. Part of the fun (for me) is feeling like I’m fast and light and fit and strong. Slogging along for a couple of miles just to say that I completed a run doesn’t do it for me.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t stress about this change in perspective a little bit. But for the most part, I tried to take a step back and let things work themselves out. Tried to give myself patience and time to get back at it again. And you know what? It worked. Slowly, as the months have gone by, I’ve felt that fire burning again. Just a flicker at first. But over the past several months it has grown and grown until it has become a strong flame, pushing me to get up in the dark to pound out miles before work. The training is different, the intensity is less, but it’s coming back. Turns out Competitive LBC never really went away. She was just dormant for a little while.
Which is how I found myself, on a warm evening in the middle of August, after limited training and absolutely no speed work, with a shiny new 5K PR. Don’t ask me how it happened. Even after 2 weeks of reflection, I still couldn’t tell you.
I signed up for the Cigna 5K with a team from work. Every year we enter a team in the corporate race. I missed out last year because of the pregnancy (running a hot August 5K after work hours away from home was just not appealing), so I felt a little extra pressure to run this year. I somehow roped Evan into the race with me by claiming that we could just run “easy” together. I’m pretty sure he knew I was lying right from the start, but to his credit he agreed – despite the fact that the 5K was only 2 days before 100on100.
I had butterflies in my stomach all day long. I felt like I was back in school, waiting for a cross country meet. I couldn’t focus, didn’t know what to eat, and had absolutely no idea how I was going to run a fast 5K after sitting at my desk all day.
Fortunately for us, it was cooler than normal that evening, with temperatures in the mid-70s. We got to Manchester in just enough time to use the porta-potties, drop Amelia off with my friend and her son who were there to support her husband, do a quick (5 minutes – not enough!!) warm up, and fight our way into the crowds on the line. With over 5,600 participants, this was (by far) the largest 5K I have ever run. We were in the first wave (sub-23:00) and I knew the lead pack would go out fast. So my only goal was to go out strong and hold on.
Before we started I made Evan promise that he wouldn’t hold back for me. Don’t get me wrong – I wanted more than anything to beat him. But I didn’t want him to make it easy. And I had no plans to wait for him if he fell behind (just being honest – he wouldn’t want me to either!).
The gun went off and everyone surged. I took off quickly, weaving in and out of the crowds. I told myself not to waste so much energy going around people but it was nearly impossible. After what felt like forever, Evan and I settled into a pace side by side. I looked down at my watch and felt a wave of disappointment when I saw the pace: 6:30/mile. Normally at the beginning of a 5K, I am hopped up on adrenaline and go out way too fast. But I was already struggling. 6:30 felt harder than I wanted it to be and I panicked. I needed to get out of my own head.
So I changed my strategy. All that mattered from that point on was perceived effort. I wasn’t allowed to look at my watch except for at the mile markers (there were timing clocks at every mile). I just focused on staying with Evan and keeping an even pace. “Lock it in!” I told myself, repeating it so many times that it became my motto for the race – the words I went back to over and over when I started to struggle.
Mile 1 – 6:19
Turns out the first mile was all uphill (hence the struggle). We turned a corner in the 2nd mile and went down a very welcome hill. Spectators were out cheering and spraying us with hoses. I ran alongside a woman with a hose and got hammered with water right in my face. It was amazing! A temporary break from focusing on the pain — before Evan suddenly started to pull ahead just a little bit. I tried not to let him get far or become discouraged. I still had time. I still had energy. I could catch him eventually.
Normally mile 2 of a 5K seems to drag on forever – the adrenaline from the first mile has worn off and the final mile still feels so far away. I don’t know if it was the slight downhill or the fact that I was sort of chasing Evan, but the mile went by so quickly. I looked down at my watch at the mile marker: 6:18. Nearly identical split to my first mile. Keep it locked in, I thought.
The final mile brought us along the back of the warehouses in Manchester and I knew there would be a hill to the finish. The same one that destroyed me during MCM two years ago. Evan seemed to find a second wind and started pulling further away. My head yelled at my legs to go with him, but my heart wasn’t in it. If I had taken a moment to think about how fast I was running or how close I would be to my old PR, maybe I would have found the motivation. Or maybe I would’ve crumbled under the pressure…who knows. For the first time in maybe ever, I didn’t do any math during a race. I had absolutely no idea what my projected finish time would be until I saw the clock at the line. It was kind of freeing.
After what seemed like an eternity, we finally turned a corner and there it was – the hill I had been dreading for the past mile. I put my head down, lifted my knees and tried to drive my way up. People seemed to be passing me left and right but I only had eyes for one competitor – my husband. Evan may have the leg speed, but I knew I was faster than him on hills. I made it my mission to catch him.
And I did. For a few brief seconds I even pulled ahead. I could see the finish line (still looking so far away) and I tried to sprint with every ounce of energy left in my legs. Unfortunately for me, Evan could see it too. And he was determined not to be out-kicked by his wife in the final sprint. He took off, and I helplessly watched as his back got further and further away.
At that moment I finally looked up at the clock. I was in shock – I saw the 19:xx, watched the seconds ticking closer and closer to my PR and thought maybe, just maybe I could squeak out a few seconds. It was the motivation I needed. I gave one final push, focused on the other backs in front of me (including one female who I had been chasing the entire race), and somehow found another gear. I crossed the finish line absolutely spent but victorious: 19:36, a 10 second PR.
Evan beat me by 3 whole seconds (a PR for him as well!). Which seems like nothing when I type it out. But at the end of a hard 5K, 3 seconds can be an eternity.
Am I happy with that PR? Absolutely! I had no idea what to expect going into the race and would’ve been happy if I had managed to pull off a 20:xx 5K. I pushed hard and ran an even effort. I still can’t believe my splits when I look at them – by far the most consistent 5K I’ve ever run. The PR was just icing on the cake.
I’m happy, excited, and feeling confident…but I’m not satisfied. And really – what kind of runner would I be if I was? I find myself thinking, if I could run that time under those circumstances, just imagine what I can do with X training?? The plight of the runner is to be endlessly unsatisfied, I think. Because the thing is, even if my run was a fluke, even if it was the result of everything magically coming together to give me a time faster than what I could really train to run, I still have that hope. That fire that burns. The will to see how much faster I can go, how much harder I can push. It’s the thing that keeps us running. The thing that makes our runner’s hearts beat.
Competitive LBC is back. She isn’t the same as before, but she’s in there. And that’s enough for now.
Garmin results: 6:19, 6:20, 6:19, last 0.1 – 6:14 pace (19:38)
Official results: 19:36 (6:19), 3rd in AG and 15th female
Seeing as the winning time was 14:38 and the first female ran a 16:36, I am super excited about those stats. And our female corporate team came in 10th overall. An awesome evening at the races!
|August 13, 2014||Posted by Lauren under LifeontheRun|
A couple of notes:
Talk of this post actually started as kind of a joke with a friend, after seeing a bunch of day in the life post from other bloggers with children. I always love reading them, and now that I have a vested interest I’m super
nosy curious about other baby’s schedules, how parents fit in physical activity, etc. However, most of the posts that I’ve seen are written by parents who stay home. So I figured it might be fun to add my perspective. Because obviously my life is super interesting now that I have a child, and I am sure you all want to see a chronicle of my daily adventures down to the minute. Or something like that…
This is actually from last Thursday (August 7th) but I just wasn’t able to get it on the blog until now. As I was recording the day, I almost scrapped the whole project. Nothing about the schedule seemed “normal” and about halfway through I contemplated forgetting it and trying again on a normal day. And then I realized I was only kidding myself. What day is “normal” when you have a 7-month old?
I work full time, but probably have a relatively easy schedule compared to many other working moms/dads. Since I direct a community health initiative, there are occasions when I need to go in early/stay late or work weekends, but most of the time it’s pretty standard. And Amelia goes to an onsite daycare — it does not escape me how lucky I am to have her here.
Other things – prior to this, Amelia was generally nursing 6 times a day, plus eating a small meal at lunch and another meal at dinner. Since last Thursday, actually, we seem to have dropped down to 5. Always keeping me on my toes, that one! Oh, and I think I accounted for every meal/snack that I ate, besides maybe a few handfuls of tortilla chips when I got home from work. If you read this and get the sense that I am always eating (and not always well), you would be correct.
So without further ado, a peek into my super exciting life. I promise I captured everything exactly as it occurred:
5:05AM: Alarm goes off. Roll over, shut it off and immediately check the weather to keep myself from falling back to sleep. Drag myself out of bed and realize that I have no idea what the temperature actually is. Reading comprehension at 5am = 0.
Stumble downstairs, pour a glass of water and take out a Nuun tablet…and then pop it into my mouth instead. I would not recommend doing this. At least I’m awake now.
Get dressed, guzzle down as much Nuun as possible, and head out the door. My goal is to be running 15-20 minutes after I wake up. I don’t quite make it today.
5:26: Start running. Curse the fact that it’s still dark out…didn’t summer just start? Legs are asleep but the air is cooler and less humid, so I’ll take it! Decide to run to NH and back…a run that sounds much longer than it really is.
The sun starts to rise as my legs wake up. We live in a valley, which normally means lots of fog and clouds in the morning. But today’s lower humidity has brought clear(er) skies. I can see a sliver of sky between the clouds up ahead, and the most beautiful sunrise is peeking through. I marvel at the beauty of it the entire way out. As I cross over the CT river and see the sun reflecting on the water, I’m high as a kite on endorphins. So this is why people love running in the morning! The way back is less exciting — clouds, hills, wheezing from the stubborn cold that won’t let go of my lungs. But I finish 7 miles at a 7:42 pace, which is huge for me these days.
*Completely unsponsored, related plug: the Saucony Pinnacle Short is my new favorite! So light and comfortable, I want a pair in every color. As a chronic waistband-roller, I don’t always love wide waistband shorts but these are perfection. Probably ordered a size too big (I was nervous about tightness) but even so, they stay put on the run.
Why do people take photos like this? It makes my legs look smaller, I suppose, but my hips look huge!
6:23: Back home and everyone is still sleeping!! Usually Evan is up changing Amelia by now…which means a sweaty breakfast for her (sorry baby). I take advantage of the quiet house by actually stretching for once.
6:35: Amelia is STILL sleeping, so I hop in the shower and get ready. A little bit of a late start + a longer run means this morning will be rushed. I get ready as fast as possible, look down at my outfit and realize it really needs to be ironed – but ain’t nobody got time for that. Head downstairs to get breakfast and our lunches ready.
7:05: Amelia must’ve partied too hard last night because she’s still asleep. Reluctantly Evan goes in to wake her up. I throw a piece of bread in the toaster and pack my + Amelia’s lunch (today she gets a mixture of mashed bananas, blueberries, plus a tiny bit of yogurt). Pour coffee, fill up my water bottle, slap some almond butter and banana on the toast and wrap it up to take to work. Marvel at the fact that yesterday morning I somehow had time to run, make myself eggs, and still get to work early.
7:15: Feed Amelia. Someone is in an awesome mood this morning!
7:25: Evan puts Amelia in her car seat while I sprint upstairs to brush my teeth (yes, Evan helps out a lot in the mornings when he doesn’t have to leave early). Technically, I should’ve been out the door 5 minutes ago. Brush, run back down only to realize my shoes are upstairs in my closet. Run back up to get them and finally get out the door. Evan helps me load everything into the car and as I’m turning back around after giving A her “see you at work!” kiss, I end up poking him in the eye. Hard. One of the hazards of being married to me — my complete lack of awareness of where my body parts are at all times means lots of unintentional injuries. Hurricane Lauren.
7:30: Finally on the road. Amelia usually naps in the car but her late wake up means she’s up and happy. So I sip on my coffee and we “chat” the entire way.
8:05: Roll into work. Sometimes we go right to daycare, but today I take Amelia to the office first. She charms everyone and shows off her “walking” skills before we head down to school.
8:15: Catch up on work emails, figure out schedule for the day.
8:30: Finally pull out my breakfast. My coworker’s husband made homemade doughnuts this morning and they are calling to me from the break room. I’m not normally a doughnut person, but homemade, old fashioned ones are hard to pass up. I barely resist the urge to dig in before I eat my toast.
10:15: Go down to check on Amelia and she’s napping. Everything is thrown off today.
10:16: Realize something I’ve been working on for several days has somehow disappeared from my computer. Frantically start a search in every single file to find it.
10:25: Still no sign of the file. Break into the rest of that doughnut. Once the panic subsides, I remember that at least a partial version is saved in my Google docs, from Tuesday when I was home sick. Thank the doughnut for jogging my memory…and thank myself for having at least a little foresight to save a version in a different location.
10:45: Amelia is up, so I go down to feed her. I am VERY lucky to have daycare in the same building – or rather, right down the hall. It means I typically get to nurse Amelia at least 1 or 2 times during day. I will not lie to you — it’s an amazing, amazing perk.
Very busy inspecting the waterbottle
12:30PM: Lunch. Today it’s a leftover bean burger with a side of watermelon Nuun, a repeat from last night’s dinner…and yesterday’s lunch…and dinner two nights before that. Kind of standard these days.
My amazing food photog skills makes that look so appetizing, right? Especially on that fancy “plate.”
Eat at my desk while doing a little research for my 1:00 meeting. Decide to push off pumping until after since everything is so thrown off anyway.
1:00: Meeting. Relatively uneventful and ends early…double win. Except as I’m walking back to my office, I notice that my name badge has pulled down my top just enough so that my super sexy nursing tank is peeping through for the benefit of the two (male, middle-aged) executives I was just meeting with. Awesome. I lead a very glamorous life.
1:50: Pump. Loads of fun, as always. And you’re welcome for not showing you a picture.
2:00: Back to work. Realize I’m still super hungry, so eat the second half of my lunch – plain Greek yogurt with honey and blueberries. My healthy snack this week is solely due to the fact that I bought some organic yogurt for Amelia to try and know she’s never going to finish the container on her own.
3:15: Walk upstairs to refill my water bottle and remember why this particular pair of shoes had been stuffed into a corner of my closet. They may look cute but they’re too big which a.) causes me to walk like I have something in my pants, and b.) seems to be giving me blisters from gripping my toes so tightly. Like I said, I lead a very glamorous life.
3:17: More work. Finally go back to that file and re-do everything I had finished yesterday afternoon. Briefly contemplate eating the apple I’ve packed…decide I’d rather have a piece of chocolate.
4:30: Get Amelia from daycare and nurse. Notice that she’s wet, so I change her on my office floor.
4:50: Commute home.
5:30: Home. Throw my stuff inside and quickly change so we can go for a walk with the pup. Evan mentions that we’re supposed to get more rain, but we look up and the skies look clear above us so we decide to risk it with a short one.
5:50: Suddenly the skies open up and within seconds Evan and I are drenched. Would have been hilarious…except Amelia doesn’t quite share our sense of humor. She’s sort of protected by the shade, but water is coming in and she is quick to voice her displeasure. So I start sprinting with the BOB as fast as a person possibly can in wet, slippery flip flops. Get home, unbuckle her and have to laugh at her shocked face. Parent of the year award right here.
Amelia was clearly thrilled
6:00: Plop Amelia in the tub…usually on bath nights we have dinner first and then a bath, but the poor kid is cold and already wet. As she happily slips and slides around I remind myself for about the 20th time that we need to get some sort of nonslip mat for the bottom.
6:30: Out of the bath, dressed and time for Amelia’s dinner. Tonight’s gourmet treat is a mixture of peas, carrots, and multigrain cereal. Evan feeds her while I start dinner for us. After she’s done eating, we chat and “play” together while I finish cooking.
7:10: Sit in the living room with Amelia and start picking at our dinner. She plays on the floor with her toys, showing off her new trick of sitting up on her own (from her belly) and trying desperately to crawl. So far she’s only managed a psuedo-army crawl using mostly her legs.
Tonight’s dinner = tortellini with homemade pesto, spinach, tomatoes, and a little “chicken” (side note: first time we tried these, and we gave them two thumbs up!
7:20: Pause dinner for “night dipes” – or, in normal person speak, the beginning of A’s bedtime routine. Change her, read a book, nurse and then put her in the crib. Evan and I sing her the same song we’ve been singing to her at bedtime since she was a newborn, rub her back for a moment, give her a kiss and leave. I can tell she’s super tired tonight and fusses a bit with her eyes closed. Fortunately she falls asleep within a few minutes.
7:45: Dinner resumes, accompanied by So You Think You Can Dance. Quality television only here in the Conkey household!
8:30: Decide I need another treat, despite the fact that I had a doughnut earlier. Plus, Evan bought new ice cream at the store today and there’s nothing better than breaking into a fresh container. So we make brownies in a mug…and I top mine with some cookie dough ice cream. Obviously I am really watching my calories here. And no, there’s no picture because I ate it way too fast.
9:15: Pump. I don’t always pump before bed, but am more motivated on days when I’m planning to run the next morning. And especially since we only had 5 feedings today vs. our normal 6, I feel like I probably should. Pump out 3oz, wash parts, store milk and get ready for bed.
10:00: In bed, wishing I was already asleep…like basically every other night. Set my alarm for 5:05AM (I swear that 5 minutes makes all the difference) to repeat the whole thing tomorrow.
|August 7, 2014||Posted by Lauren under Running|
I have a bit of a problem. The image of the runner I am in my head doesn’t exactly match up with reality.
It wasn’t always like this. For many months, I had no trust in my body. No faith in what it was capable of…at least, athletically speaking. I felt weak and clunky and out of sorts when I ran.
And then I raced a 10K. My first ever, and the first real test of my speed since Amelia was born. I never wrote about it here (what’s the statute of limitations on race recaps?), but it was the first time in a long time that I felt strong, confident…competitive.
That morning I went out without my Garmin. It was hot and humid and the race start was pushed back so that by the time the gun went off, I was no longer warmed up and the watch wasn’t connected to satellites. I ran blind, without thinking. My only plan to make it hurt. The first woman took a commanding lead from the start, so I just told myself to keep her in my sight for as long as possible.
I held onto 2nd place for the first half of the race. Until the turnaround point, when a pack of 3 women who were running much stronger than I felt passed me. I tried to stay with them, but my lack of training and endurance were catching up to me. I told myself to just hold on for one more mile. And then another.
Somewhere deep inside I found that internal fire that used to burn so bright when I raced. I ended up passing one of those women in the final mile to finish in 43:10. Good enough for 4th (woman) overall and 1st in my age group. I was back.
Since then, I’ve no longer felt like weak, out of shape, postpartum Lauren. There’s a little swagger in my running stride, and in my head I’m pre-pregnancy Lauren. The Lauren who trains for hours and hours every week and is fit enough to run marathons.
Except I’m not. I have some speed back and am slowly gaining stamina, but I’m certainly not in the shape that I was. And definitely not putting the time into training that I once did.
And yet — part of me wonders if that matters. Not the training part, because obviously if you want to get faster and stronger you have to commit. You have to put in the time. The mental image of myself, I mean. You could argue that confidence in running is a good thing. You never improve if you don’t believe in yourself. Will never reach big goals if you don’t trust that you have what it takes to achieve them.
Then again, confidence can make you do some dumb things. Can make you forget rational thoughts for awhile and take on things that you might not be quite ready for.
In less than two weeks I am running the 100on100 relay for the very first time. This relay has been a dream of mine for a while now – 100 miles down the scenic Route 100 in Vermont. It’s going to be hilly, it’s going to be hard, but I am convinced that it’s going to be a blast. And in all my excitement, I kind of maybe volunteered myself for the hardest legs of the course. In the span of 12ish hours, I will be completing 18.9 miles, the last leg straight up Killington. Cumulatively, this will be much farther than I’ve run in…well, I can’t remember how long.
But I’m not really worried. Maybe I should be. I’ve been fighting a nasty cold for the past week, which has made running difficult (read: almost nonexistent). My training for the race hasn’t been what I had hoped. And, as if the relay itself isn’t enough, I’m running a 5K the Thursday before with a team from work. It’s going to be an exhausting weekend for sure.
But, I have been running. I may not be putting in hours and hours a week, but my runs have been strong and consistent. I train on hills all the time. I’ve practiced running in the early morning humidity and the late afternoon heat. I
think know I will be fine if I just pace myself. I guess we’ll find out for sure in 9 days.
The old LB is back. Maybe not physically, but in spirit. And that’s a start, right?