Why I Don't Wear Gym Clothes To School - By Crumbs

I'm jobless.  Well, not exactly, I'm raising my boys, blah, blah, blah..(which if I were a paid nanny, I'd totally be fired for being lazy).  I coast at my "job."  The first thing I think of is "how can I get coffee into me faster" and then I think "I wish I could go for a run right now all alone without having to do anything for anyone else."  And then, even though I LOVE my kids immensely, I'm always plotting ways to get away from them or to get them to take naps or go to bed.  It's like a habit now, an artful balance between keeping everyone going with the least amount of work required.  Having relatively low standards is helpful.  I can go to bed with dishes in the sink...and on the dining room table.

Honestly, I know I'm amazingly privileged.  How many people wish they didn't have to work and could spend time doing the things they love, playing with their kids or doing nothing at all but surf the web?  Everyone.  Well, for a few years, I get to do that.  The price?  Being the official First Responder to 3am bedwetting and my toddler's "The Toy".  Done.  Don't get me wrong - I ADORE witnessing my youngest's exponential learning curve and being read to for the first time by my older boy.  I love the soccer games and playgrounds and easter egg hunts and rock skipping and team photos and piano practice and cuddling and all those delicious experiences mothers enjoy.  But I also love the open schedule that having 1 in Kindergarten and 1 who naps allows.  Could I better use my time? Absolutely!  But then I might miss out on this precious time to do nothing in the middle of the day - when no one is watching or waiting; kind of like at college. I know it won't be forever...just when they are young.  Supposed to graduate sometime, right?

Like when my eldest was 4, I went back to work.   I baked in a cupcake shop, waking up at absurd hours so I could be home by 1 to pick him up from preschool and enjoy the day with him.  I'd like to say it was hard to get back into the demand of work & home, but it wasn't.  I was ready to be productive again- and have an excuse not to spend 12 hours a day with my boy (it's true! absence DOES make the heart grow fonder).  But then after several months, what I thought was impossible, happened: I got pregnant again.  Not only did my energy drop from 60 to nothing in 3 seconds, but I threw up so much, it made me stupid.  I'm pretty sure my ability to count without using my fingers got flushed down the bakery toilet. I was fired for being an inept employee.  Totally. Deserved.  (but the 1st trimester's fault).  And then the Stay-at-Home-Mom cycle re-started, which is super cool.

But I know it's an indulgence I can enjoy for just another wee chunk of time.  What do they say about if you want something done, give it to a busy woman?  Yeah, don't give it to me.  It's not going to happen.  If I'm not on a run at the Y, them I'm sitting in my stinky clothes checking my facebook page (friend of a friend's wedding photos? don't mind if I do!)  This stay-at-home mom lifestyle is a luxury my husband has sacrificed for because he knows it's good for the kids, and lord knows, HE doesn't want to spend all day with them!

What's my point?  Despite it all, I draw the line at wearing my gym clothes to my son's school because nothing flaunts Privilege like wearing a Dri-Fit tanktop and yoga pants at drop-off.  No matter how late I might be or how disheveled,  I won't let anyone see me looking like I have plenty of time in the middle of the day to go to the gym.  Why?  I'm totally embarrassed to look unproductive AND selfish... and I fear my ostentation will goad Karma into taking it all away too soon. Regardless of convenience, no one, especially working moms and dads rushing to get their child to class AND themselves to work on time, needs to go by a  lil' pony-tailed chick in a running skirt who's 'Off For a Workout with My Trainer, Emmanuel, and then Mimosas with the Ladies at Lunch'.  Of course, that's not what happens, but I want to guarantee it doesn't look like that either.  Now, if I actually had a job with non-traditional hours and I had to s-q-e-e-z-e in a quick run at 7:30 am, perhaps I'd feel justified...but I don't, so I'm not.  I'm on a sabbatical from the hard, real world.  I don't want to rub it in.

Double Time: Road to San Antonio

My father was a military man..well, boy.  He lied about being 18 so he could run away from his drunk father and join the Coast Guard.   He craved order, fair discipline, and rituals like unloading the dishwasher the moment it finished its cycle.

My mother was...well, the opposite.  She was an untamed, fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants, wild-child who would rebel just for the sake of rebelling.

Clearly, it didn't end well.  But before their impromptu marriage fell apart, they managed to raise a daughter who sees no point in making the bed every morning, but who tries to do it because that's what you're supposed to do.

Which is exactly why, when I could not find a running group that fit my schedule, I made my own.  You see, I need the discipline of a group.  I find comfort in knowing that every Friday at 9am I must be ready to help my group tackle the next incremental step on our training schedule - a schedule that I devised.   I need the ritual of dropping my 5 year old off at Kindergarten, and zooming down to our meeting spot 20 minutes before the others arrive in order to sap the last bit of baby's on the stairs.  I love working on group communication e-mails that offer weekly tips and remind me to practice what I preach.   I crave the high that comes from looking down at my watch and reading that we've already done twice the miles than I realized because they melted away in conversation.

Otherwise, there's an awfully strong chance I would say To Hell With It and get stuck at 6 miles.   Without others counting on me, I don't push myself as hard as I should; my log book doesn't have as many miles in it (if I'm writing in it at all).  Of course, I WANT to run farther and faster, but I can't help but getting distracted by the rest of my life, including that ridiculous voice that says Go on, check Facebook one more time, maybe something fantastic popped up.  Or Oh, run tomorrow, today let's drag the kids around a new part of town on a whim despite their protests.

So, for 8 weeks now, 10-15 of us have been on the Road to San Antonio.  We're training for the November 14th Rock & Roll Half Marathon that tours the art district, several missions and of course, the Alamo.  We started at 5 miles and have worked our way up to 10 so far.  Each week, our gang varies slightly according to their schedules, but we have a strong 6 person core group on which the others depend.   They all expect me and the baby to be there, ready to talk their ears off (or as I like to think of it, distract them through the miles).  And they all apologize profusely if they've missed a run, promising to make it up the next day.

I guess we get along so well because we have a common bond.  We all make our beds...unless, of course, no one is looking.

A break up note

Dear 6 Mile Run,

I'm over you.  I know we've been together every week for the last few months, but I moved on today...to a 7 mile run: something I haven't done in over a year and a half.  I'll be working my way up to half-marathon distance soon, because I have a group now, and they'll help me get there just like they helped me leave you behind.

I'll see you again, but just for fun, nothing serious.  You can't keep me down forever.

Sincerely,
Crumbs

What doesn't bend, breaks.

They say, your children teach you how to be a parent; that you can try to force them into your preconceived ideas on what your family should be like, but ultimately, what doesn't bend, breaks.

Even as young as 3 1/2, my 5 year-old boy has had an extraordinary ability to focus on building Lego worlds. Left alone in his room with a 500 piece set, he can assemble the entire thing without a lick of help. This awesomely peaceful time recharges all of us. However, despite his love of long, solitary hours of building, he needs to know I'm still keeping an eye on him....otherwise he launches into brutal, piece-by-piece tutorial that painstakingly teaches me how he built his vehicles. When he's caught me ignoring him for too long, he shows no mercy and milks my mommy-guilt like a newborn. Glance away for a millisecond? He starts over.

As a baby/toddler, he could only fall asleep on the move; and the louder the environment, the better. We could (and were motivated) to tote him to parties, to the theater, to restaurants and The Nap Master would sleep....until, of course, we were at home, at night.

This boy has taught me how to be the parent I am. Feel a "class" is about to start? I now know to bathe him in my undivided attention while changing the topic. Won't admit to being tired? There's "a quick errand" in the car we need to run. Doesn't get hurt despite how bad the spill seems? Sure you can climb on the outside of the tube-slide.

How different would life be if my kids had been born in reverse order?

My 5 month old baby refuses to sleep in the car and in a stroller, nor will he doze off if there is any noise or light. Yikes! BUT...he sleeps through the night*. He won't let me nurse him to sleep in front of the TV or con him into a nap by circling the block a few times. Nope. He forces me to take him to my room, and lay him down in dark silence. Then, he'll see me in the morning. Had he been my first child, I would have probably had our family on a strict schedule from the beginning. Then my other one would have been born into an organized household and adapted to it, because that's just how he is. We'd all be well-rested, perky, with bluebirds landing upon our shoulders as our four-part harmonies clear the clouds from the skies.

Then, of course, I never would have learned to love running.

I wouldn't have so desperately strapped him into a stroller and hit the road in attempt to get him to sleep. Had I not already experience the joy that comes after the first 6 sucky weeks of getting back into shape, I wouldn't have gotten my butt out the door a second time because this baby HATES the stroller. My parenting arsenal wouldn't have included "attitude adjustment" runs - the kind that inspired my boy to say (when he was old enough to form his own thoughts):"Mommy, you're nicer after you run." I wouldn't have met my best friend Kelly during marathon training, or seen the sun rise from the Biscayne Bridge, or eaten at Amy's Ice Cream 3 days in a row without guilt. I wouldn't have found that cool stream my boy and I skim rocks in. I wouldn't have traded in wine for my new favorite drug: runner's high. (Okay, maybe "supplemented" would have been more appropriate).

How different would it have been? Well, my first-born inadvertently made me a runner, and being a runner makes me a better mom to my kids. So, I guess all those sleepless nights were worth it. It's not like I could sing well enough to harmonize with the family anyway.

*If you don't count all these sick days recently!

runnin' mama back

one handed typing but i gotta check in to say, yes, this running mama is back!

body has long been healed from my 2nd boy's birth and i'm up to 6 miles...6 slow miles, but that far none-the-less. i can also whip out a 5k in 32 minutes, which is just 4 minutes longer than it was before i was pregnant (gasp!) but i think that has more to do with newly added hills and pushing a giant stroller.

anyhow - my boy is now 3 1/2 months old and i can see the light at the end of the tunnel. i guess it helps that he sleeps pretty well, or rather, well enough. and i can fit into my "fat" jeans, which feels good after being in the same maternity jeans for an eternity. unfortunately, i'm dropping these pounds at a safe and steady rate of 1 lb per week, rather than what i had fantasized: 40 lbs gone by the 1st month with remarkable toning & flexibility achieved by his 2 month appt.

oh well...at least i can run

Gotta Walk Before I Run

Gotta Walk Before I Run.

Turns out, this isn't just a metaphor. Nine days post-partum: My birth went well, no damage to my plumbing, I've been up and moving, well...since giving birth. I delivered at a free standing birth center and was sent home just 6 hours after my boy's arrival - and I was happy to be back in my own bed.

My mother came into town 2 days later. Now, my mother means well, but at 69 years old, her body isn't what it used to be. In fact, she's a wreck. Plagued by manic-depression, she gave up living years ago. Long story short, she can't stand for more 10 minutes, she shakes to much to write, and gets lost going to her mailbox. Frankly, she needs to live in an assisted-living facility, but refuses. What makes it tragic is that she'd rather have a hundred ailments listed on her gravestone than try to take care of herself. This week, I took care of two "infants."

I made her dinner while trying to teach my 2 day old to breastfeed. I helped her buckle her seatbelt after I hooked in my 3 day old into his carseat in order to pick up my 4 1/2 year old from preschool. I unsuccessfully tried to get her to shower while re-diapering my 5 day old.

I'm thankful my birth went well enough that I could keep my family going AND care for my mother. But I'm exhausted. I'm tired and sore and angry that I couldn't take it easy during my son's first week of life. I'm upset that she invited herself into my home for 8 days knowing full well that she couldn't help walk our dog, drive my son to school, help with meals or even clear her own dishes. I'm furious that she came with a runny nose and loud cough - and now my 4 1/2 year old and I have it.

I want to run. I want to strap on my running shoes and refuel with each step. I want to erase my bitterness by sweating it out but I can't. I should have been healing, but I've been up and moving non-stop. After driving my mom to the airport, I'm just now realizing how sore I am. I know I have to walk before I run, but I didn't think walking would be such a challenge. I know it's only been 9 days since a major event - giving birth - but a 20 minute walk shouldn't have been so hard. Maybe I'm just aching because I've lost my mother.

I'm getting an Ironman tattoo!

About a year after my first was born, I ran a marathon despite stopping training the last 6 weeks due to shin splints. I ran with the mantra "I survived a 7 hour labor, I know I can run for at least 7 hours if I have to." My time was 6 hours 45 minutes.

Well, my friends, on Sunday around 2pm, little Graham joined us after 21 hours of natural labor. He is beautiful and healthy and was well worth the challenge. I look forward to sharing tales about our upcoming adventures. Thanks for the encouragement this entire pregnancy.

I will be posting my birth story on my blog in the next few days.

Thoughts at 40 weeks 6 days (a.k.a. Why I'm Carbo-Loading)

My due date has come and gone by a week.

I can't help feeling like I've signed up for an Ironman competition without knowing when it will be...I could be mid-meal or in the grocery store or watching Jon Stewart and the Race Director will suddenly shout "And GO!!!" and I'll have to roll into a 3, (or 5, or 8, or 10, or 15, or 40?) hour event. I'll have to find my team, grab my gear (probably in the middle of the night) and start this race without mile markers or warming up; without proper foresight to be well-rested or even fed. (Not to mention my photos will totally look like I'm an amateur competing on the Kona Course.) The anticipation is killing me!

Thoughts at 39 Weeks and 6 Days Pregnant

These last 9 months or so have developed a new pattern in our household: I'm usually awoken in the morning by my 4 1/2 year old climbing into bed with me at 7:15, when he rearranges my pillows and blankets so he can lay down and pretend to sleep for 10 minutes; then he gets really close to my face and whispers "I'm ready for my breakfast now."

He's a natural snooze button: the initial wake up, then 10 minutes until his announcement, then he gets up to get his bowl and fill it with cereal giving me about 10 more minutes before I waddle over to pour the milk.

The other morning, I woke up long before anyone else and enjoyed the stillness and solitude of dawn, like I used to on my early morning runs...only minus the run. My boy kept up his ritual, but whispering to his dad instead when he realized I was missing. Soon enough, he stumbled upon me in the living room, saying sweetly "When I saw you weren't in bed, I thought you were out running."

It was such a lovely reminder that my old routine wouldn't be traumatic to reinstate once the baby is born. I'll adapt to our changing family yet be able to keep the frame of who I am. And it gave me hope that, no, the strains of pregnancy aren't forever - I will become strong and invigorated soon enough. And my family will help me.

Keepin' Austin Weird (5K)

Oh Blog - What a relationship we have! I think of you often, but never write.

Well, a quick update. I'm 36 weeks pregnant with my 2nd boy and once considered myself a runner - enough so to put a sticker on my car that says "Runner Girl." I love me a good long run. Only, I now define "run" as waddle-waddle-pee break-waddle-waddle-stop. I've gone from 25 miles a week to...uh...well, 2.5 on a good week.

Today, however, my 4 1/2 year old and I trekked out into the pouring rain to get WEIRD! The Keep Austin Weird 5k promised to be "the slowest 5k you'll ever run" and it delivered! I'm a month from giving birth...I felt that qualified as "weird" to see out on the trail.

We started in the back - my boy wanting to run rather than sit in the jogger - and we pretty much stayed there. He splashed through the puddles and I walked slow enough to make sure he didn't follow the rushing water down the street drains. After a mile, he was done and I could start to run. He crawled back into the jogger and we set off of doing 2:1s. While I was far from hitting a PR, we covered the last 2 miles in 27 minutes - nothing fancy, but hey, I'm HUGE and pushing a 48 lb boy in the rain.

Since this was Keep Austin Weird, after all, we switched places the last .1 mile: I sat in the jogging stroller and HE pushed me! I should have thought of that 3 miles ago!!! Overall, it took the two of us (well, 3 of us, technically) 50 minutes to do the 5k and we enjoyed every minute of it!

Now off to take a long, long nap!

Moms Who Rock

edit: link corrected

MOMS WHO ROCK! Pt. II

This week: Mama Sweat (a.k.a. Kara).

In her own words

This blog isn't about weight loss or acquiring the perfect body, it's about the absurdities we moms face when we're trying to be mom, wife, employee (or employer), daughter, sister, friend, and the many other roles we take on; while making fitness fit into our lives. As a former endurance athlete, I'm trying to stay in shape while I raise my three young daughters and infant son. Finding the time and the means to exercise isn't just about me, though. I also want to be a good role model and help my children grow up active and healthy.

I found this blog when searching for ways to cope with pregnancy without giving up running. I instantly fell in love with the following post after the first bulletin point:

Everything I Know About Coping with Pregnancy I Learned from Being a Triathlete

1. Ice is nice. After finishing my third marathon (Big Sur--a must run) I saw kiddie pools filled with ice water available for the runners. Because marathoners' brains are a bit addled after 26.2 miles, sitting in a pool of ice water seemed heavenly. And it was. Even better was the next morning, when I had enough spring in my step to walk the hilly streets of San Francisco. From then on an ice bath became my ritual after any run longer than 18 miles. Fast forward many years later, about midway through my first pregnancy--heavy with twins--it occurred to me one night that I felt like I had run 18 miles. And then I realized that an ice bath might make my aching legs feel better. Getting in the tub of as-cold-as-I could make-it-water wasn't quite as easy that time, but once there, and especially after, the benefits were worth the initial discomfort. So much so that I took an ice-cold bath almost every night until I had those babies. I've never had swollen cankles or circulation problems in my pregnancies. Am I lucky or is it my affinity for a polar plunge?

She had me at Ice Bath.

It goes on to cover eating, resting and preparation in terms I can understand (you know, using words like "workout" "training partner" and "modify").

So, thanks Kara, for the advice. You are definitely a Mom Who Rocks!

Moms Who Rock

In exploring the wide world of the internet, I've stumbled upon some amazing tales: Not just blogs by women who run half-marathons mid-way through pregnancy or enter triathlons just weeks after giving birth; I mean, women who constantly explore their roles as mothers and athletes, who wrestle with balancing healthy bodies & healthy body images. Frankly, there are a lot of moms who rock out there who are pretty inspiring. This is why I'd like to introduce a weekly feature highlighting some of these women: Moms Who Rock.

This week's Mom Who Rocks:

This dreamcrossed twilight tracks the adventures of one woman who doesn't lose her identity as a Runner throughout the many weeks of pregnancy. She's at 35 weeks now and still logs at least 20 miles weekly (including a 10 mile run). This new mother-to-be deals honestly with her fears of loss-of-identity, struggles with body image and the logistics of actually exercising with an ever growing belly.

This Evening's Spectacle

This evening's spectacle, down a quiet little neighborhood street:

My 4-year-old boy riding a WAY-TOO-BIG bike recovered from a dumpster whose training wheels screeched like fingernails down a chalkboard; all the while he was growling screaming out car engine sounds and pretending to get blown-out tires.

Next to him: me and my 23 week pregnant belly slogging* along soaked in sweat, chanting "Go Lightning McQueen Go!" or "Peet Stop"** in a really bad Italian accent or "Bring on the confetti!"***

Talk about a circus!

*runningfor3's fabulous term for slow jogging

** Guido anyone?

***Chick...and yes, thanks for asking: We HAVE seen the movie Cars 1084 times.

"Race" Update

Hello All!

Crumbs here - Back from The Land of Fatigue and Heaving (a.k.a First Trimester) and happily gliding along through Celebration and Energy (well, relatively speaking!).  I'm 22 weeks along in my 2nd pregnancy and have a renewed love of running quickly-paced waddling.

I've never been fast, but My Oh My, just 2 months ago it took me 45 minutes to force myself to go 2.5 miles.  The agony!  All because of this weird addiction that seemed like it was going to promise me relief in my rough months of sickness.  Really - food was intolerable. Advil unadvised. And a Mojito with a floater? Highly frowned upon by the masses.  I knew I was allowed to run, though.  And when I run, I get a Runner's High!  Sweet - Hook Me Up. Only, I couldn't really make it through the first mile so easily without getting dizzy and feeling like a 7 year old was taking drum lessons in my head.  I guess only being able to force down 500 calories a day meant there wasn't much in the bank for added exercise.  This, it seemed, was going to be a very, very long 40 weeks.  Weekly milage went from 25 to...well, 3 (or 10, if you count running to the toilet).

Fast forward to this week.  

I had slowly reintroduced myself to running over the last 8 weeks - first with the treadmill and then out on the street - week by week adding a little more.  I even completed a 5 miler in just 1 minute/per mile slower than pre-pregnancy.  HOPE!  HOPE, I tell you!  

So I signed up for a 5k in my old stomping grounds of South Miami.  (I'm back in town for a little while and what better to meet up with old friends than at a race?!  It's a fun way to let folks know about the little one, too!)  Anyway - I knew I wasn't going to set any records but I couldn't believe that I finished a cool 2 minutes slower than I did last year - right around old running buddies.  Just 2 months ago I had lost hope of ever having my runner's high again.  But there it was:  Baby and Me waddling through at a relaxed pace, waving to familiar faces, enjoying the course, passing the finish line with a smile and energy to spare!

Each day I get bigger. 

I know every run won't be that smooth. 

BUT it's so comforting to know that, even when I hit rough patches (be it morning sickness or injury or burnout), I'll eventually get my groove back.

Happy Running All!

Need some Advice

Hello!  I need some help from all the running moms!

I'm am 11 weeks pregnant and have celebrated my "First 2 Days Without Being Sick in a Public Place" by signing up for a 10k fun run this weekend.  (I'm Crazy!)

I'll be pushing my 4 year old in the stroller so my goal is to finish!  Thankfully, there is a costume contest, so if I turn green I could win a prize!

Anyhow - My question is this: what, if anything, do you consume on your runs?  Is there anything that I can not have?  I love to drink NUUN, but it has sorbitol which I'm pretty sure is off-limits.

I also love Gookinaid, but am not sure if it's okay.  What about Gu?  

Cliff Blocks seem like there okay because, well, they say organic and I'm a sucker for advertising (love their new shot block packaging BTW!). 

I never really drink Gatorade well, I don't know why. Ironically, it always seemed like just corn syrup-water to me...although, I kind of know sugar-water is kind of what ALL of the things are.

I know "Ask Your Doctor" is the best advice, but I go to midwifes who aren't necessarily athletic.  I really trust moms who've been there first.  So, any advice?

UPDATE:

Vitalyte (a.k.a Gookinaid) answered my question as to whether or not it was safe during pregnancy (very promptly, I might add!) with the following:

Dear Crumbs,

Thank you for contacting Vitalyte.

Yes, Gookinaid Hydralyte and Vitalyte are safe products for you and your baby.

In fact, Vitalyte has many benefits for mother and baby. Many women find that Vitalyte helps prevent and manage morning sickness. The balance of electrolytes in Vitalyte can help prevent some of the potential complications of pregnancy.

So, yes, please enjoy Hydralyte and Vitalyte as your baby develops.

For more information about Vitalyte during pregnancy, you may wish to consult one of the science articles on our website. From the home page, go to Hydration 101, then Science Articles, then Dehydration in Pregnancy and Morning Sickness.

Best Wishes to you and Baby.

Dr. Bloch

UPDATE #2

Gu Energy is NOT suitable for pregnant women according to THIS WEBSITE

No wonder I'm so tired...

I'm a the Human Cybertron*.  When I run, I LOVE gadgets.  I love knowing my heart rate and pace and speed and calories burned, etc, etc.

So, now that I'm nearly 9 weeks pregnant (and surprise, surprise: exhausted), I couldn't help but notice that my heart has been beating harder and faster, even when at rest.   I went from a resting heart rate of 42 beats per minute to nearly 60. 

Just for kicks, I strapped on my Polar Heart Rate Monitor yesterday and watched my rate as I went through my normal day.  Man, this whole pregnancy thing is great exercise! ;)  

Here is a sample of how hard my heart was working:

• Transferring wet clothes from the washer to the dryer: 75 beats per minute
  
• Making my son's peanut butter and jelly sandwich while he painstakingly described in detail his dream robot car: 85
  
• Walking our OLD dog around the block: 100
• Getting up to go to the bathroom...again: 70
• Taking dishes from the dining room table to the sink: 95
• Folding laundry: 95

Granted, none of these reached into Aerobic workouts, but dang, just doing everyday things at a slow pace is getting my blood pumping.  I'm glad docs have discounted the whole "pregnant women should stay below 140 beats per minute" otherwise, I'd never be able to shower!

*What are you?

Oh, Mama!

(deep inhale through the nose...slow exhale through the mouth)

(deep inhale through the nose...slow exhale through the mouth)

Ahem.  

Remember those nights in college when you'd begin by forcing down cheap beer in your dorm room, then soon it went down much quicker...and before you know it you're tossing back whatever fruity jungle juice concoction your friends handed you in the big red keg cup?

More importantly, remember that feeling the next morning when your head spun, your stomach took it's revenge and you thought you should vomit (but couldn't)? Remember thinking pancakes would soak up your sins but instead made you gag?

Ahh.  Yes.  

That's how I feel this morning.  Only, instead of binge drinking, I've begun growing an itty-bitty sesame seed.  (Between the bloating and the gas, though, I'd swear I was up to an heirloom tomato by now.) 

Exciting - Yes!  Two years in waiting!  But, oh my, I don't remember feeling this terrible last time around (nearly 5 years ago).  Blech.   All the hangover, with none of the humiliating photos.

I've come to the point of my post: how do you do it?  HOW do you get to the gym when you want to just hug the toilet? HOW do you get out the door for a run when you have to pull out Lamaze breathing while bending to tie your shoes?  I want to keep exercising, but man, I'd rather just curl up in bed and read people's status updates on Facebook.  Not that that's a possibility with a 4 year old and a job, but a girl can dream.

How did you survive this trimester?  

This Mama-to-be ROCKS

Not exactly running related - by my goodness, if you didn't get a chance to see it, you should google MIA and Grammy.  

Despite tonight being her due date, she got up on stage and rocked hard.  

Now THAT's endurance!

Careful what you wish for...

I'm always complaining because I can't find any running partners in my new town (that fit my schedule, that is). Monday, however, it didn't just metaphorically rain, it poured.

The other day, I tried to convinced my co-workers at the bakeshop that even absolute novices could enjoy running, if done right. So we set a running date for 6:30 am. Turns out, everyone had wonderful excuses why they didn't make it and I ran a hard, hilly 4 miles all on my own. Despite being stood up, it was refreshing to put in a few miles before mixing a few batters.

When I checked my e-mail upon returning home, I was startled to see a note from another girl from my meetup.com running group confirming that we'd still be doing 4 miles at 5pm that same night: "A slow 11:30 min/mile pace."

Oh, man. I forgot!

Not one to stand up a running partner, even when tired, I strapped my sleepy 4 year old into his stroller. Unfortunately, we blew our goal pace to bits. I dug deep-- I mean, Lamaze-breathing deep; self-hypnosis deep; holding-back-tears deep; I-should-have-eaten-more-cherry-pie-bars-at-work-today deep -- just to keep up with my new 12-years-my-junior buddy*.

"Whew!" she said upon finishing , "That's a minute and a half per mile faster than I've ever gone! You really pushed me! I never could have done that on my own. I hope we can run together again!"

What? What? What? I pushed her?

Funny, we both almost passed out because we were trying to please the other.

I guess I'm not the only one who would do anything for a running partner!

*okay, I'll try to give the hyphens a rest.

I've lost my mind

It's official. I've lost my mind. Let me explain.

I was a stay-at-home mom for 3 1/2 years for my one little boy and frankly, began to run to keep my sanity. As the story goes, I became obsessed and instead of talking about my boy all the time, I talked about running.

One neighbor of mine (in my last town) was far more sympathetic than others. He was a handsome, slender man in his late 50's who ran farther, longer, faster, and more gracefully than I could ever dream of. His advice was only offered if asked but his eyes always soften in delight when anyone expounded on the joys and pains of running. After seeing him at a few races, I indulged my curiosity and looked up his finishing times. Basically, he finished a 10K faster than my 5K.

My respect morphed into a wee idol-crush when he offered me up a pseudo-scientific nugget explaining the runner's high. I was telling him that I went on a long bike ride and just felt cruddy afterward, rather than joyful like I do after running. He said, rather convincingly, that only running and jumping on a trampoline offer the effects of the Runner's High.  Something about the bouncing and metronome effect.  I think he elaborated more eloquently or perhaps I misunderstood because I was distracted after learning who his brother was, but I've been convinced ever since then that only running and bouncing on a trampoline can kick down a hit of the endorphins I've been craving like a junkie since I sacrificed my running life for a paycheck. 

So, I went from a Half-marathon every other month to calling 5 miles my "long run."  From running 30 miles a week to eking out 8.  Changing climates hasn't helped, either.  Normally, if I didn't have time, I'd wake up super early (I've been known to run at 3:45 am).  But Sisters, I've just gotten accustomed to these hills, I can't deal with 30 degrees, too! (TREMENDOUS respect to those of you who do!!!!)  

This brings me to my original point when I began this post:  I've lost my mind.  I've been "bloated"* and tired and G-R-U-M-P-Y.  I'm totally jonzin' for cardio.

Only, I can't get out for a run, don't have a treadmill, can't figure out how to rig up a makeshift bike trainer, and somehow lost my jumprope in the move.

So I started to jog in place. And jump. And kick.  And bust out "dance" moves from the 80's.  I pumped my arms and pretended I was Footloose.  I exercised my demons** for 30 minutes. It was neither running nor jumping on a trampoline, but dang, I needed that.

*No, I will not call it weight gain until I'm 10 lbs heavier...just 4 lbs to go.

*Get it?