Six months ago, I was fast! I was faster, stronger and lighter than I’d ever been as an adult. I was running 7 min/miles (8s with the stroller). I was psyched. THIS pregnancy (my third), I was going to be like Paula! Scaled down to human levels, of course, but there was no stopping me. I was going to run right into the delivery room this time.
Yes, well, then the “morning sickness” started. You know, the kind that actually lasts from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning until I fell asleep at night. That was a really awesome 4 weeks. Then my knee started making this really lovely crunching noise, so I scaled back even more on the miles.
Then, I got to the second trimester. Things were really looking up for about a week. I felt good; I ran; I lifted; I fixed some things around the house, and FULL STOP. When I say that “I hurt my back,” I mean I strained something, badly, where my legs attach to my lower back and could not even stand up for two days. I had to sleep in the basement because I could not get up the stairs. It took a third day of slowly shuffling sideways before I could even put one foot in front of another.
It has been almost two weeks now and things are holding together well. I jogged/walked 5 miles the other day, but it wasn’t pretty. My workouts are much reduced and as much as I aspire to run like Paula, this may be yet another walking pregnancy. C’est la vie!