tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37770602410193001022024-03-19T00:31:45.280-07:00Run for FunStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.comBlogger290125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-45190270798967949382013-06-20T16:05:00.001-07:002013-06-20T16:05:19.101-07:00Have you checked out the new blog yet?<br />
Hi all!<br />
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Well, after a lot of work on Aaron's end and mine too (and of course Lee and Wubby too) we officially are moving to WordPress. I hope you will make the move with me. I am starting off the new blog with the full truth/things I have never disclosed. If you are interested, come see me at<br />
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<a href="http://26.2runforfun.com/"><span style="font-size: large;">26.2runforfun.com</span></a></div>
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<b><i>Hope to see you there!</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-48456294111702579042013-06-18T17:31:00.002-07:002013-06-18T17:31:49.042-07:00Checkout my new Wordpress Site & Find Out My SecretsHi all!<br />
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Well, after a lot of work on Aaron's end and mine too (and of course Lee and Wubby too) we officially are moving to WordPress. I hope you will make the move with me. I am starting off the new blog with the full truth/things I have never disclosed. If you are interested, come see me at<br />
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<a href="http://26.2runforfun.com/"><span style="font-size: large;">26.2runforfun.com</span></a></div>
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<b><i>Hope to see you there!</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-15606697589191610352013-06-16T15:51:00.000-07:002013-06-16T15:51:01.987-07:00The Perfect RunYou ever have one of those days you feel like you are flying, light as can be, like no one can catch you (even if people are passing you). Just one of those days where you hit your times, where it feels easy even when it might be a little hard still and where you have a smile plastered on your face the whole time....<div>
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<b><i>They look like this right...sure I am running here</i></b></div>
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These were what my runs were like on both Thursday and Saturday of this week. I am sure I am in for a dozzy (how do you even spell that?!?) for the next run. But for now I will just smile and continue to gush to you all about how I have had two glorious runs. I spend so much time lately being hard myself, not realizing that I am doing great, and that the work is paying off. That needs to stop. A few years ago, I would not be counting these runs as "perfect runs" - they were not the times I would have wanted to see, they were still hard at points, and they would not be considered my "very best." Yet, these two past runs have given me perspective. I will get back to the times I want and even if I don't I am working hard, training, and having a blast! Its been a long time since I have felt that way and its quite a glorious feeling. It is why I say I run right....for fun...</div>
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So the runs. On Thursday, I had 3 fast miles on tap. I wanted to push, I wanted to do my best. I got there and I did. I kept my pace around 8 minutes and was ecstatic. Was I also ready to throw up? Sure, but that is just an indicator of a good run, right? I came home gloating to Aaron (him and I are in a little bit of a running show down lately...more to come in a later post) and felt that wonderful runner's high all day long.</div>
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<b><i>Forever recycled, always my favorite</i></b></div>
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But yesterday, yesterday was perfect. I had 12 miles on tap. The plan was that I would run the first 8 and meet Aaron at that point. He was running 8 with the jogging stroller so we would do our last 4 miles together and hope the paces synced up.</div>
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I started and right off, I knew today would be my day. The weather was a runner's dream and I felt light and airy. As the first miles came in, I looked at the times in disbelief, even as I headed up a long 3 mile stretch uphill I was holding steady and feeling incredible. 9:03, 9:06, 9:15....</div>
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I was enjoying reminiscing with all my old favorite tunes, such as Glee and more Glee (the <i>best</i> running music, I swear!). 8:56, 9:20, 9:18, 8:59</div>
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The best part of this run however, hands down, started at Mile 8. I saw Aaron and Lee and began clamping and screaming. I was wondering if Aaron would make it to me on time and he was there for 10 minutes waiting! I was so impressed - 4 miles uphill with a stroller is hardcore! 9:13</div>
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<b><i>My boys</i></b></div>
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I asked him "if he was ready to go fast?" He said "what do you mean by fast?" I said "well 9s and it is down hill." He nodded and said "it<i> is</i> downhill."</div>
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So off we went still feeling like I was flying...on top of the world so to speak. Lee was enjoying his time by blowing raspberries and saying "ahhhh." To which I had to respond with my own raspberries and ahhs. Aaron was well...kicking ass. At one point I looked down at my watch and saw 8:30s. I kept him encouraging him, until he had to encourage me!!! He started to pick up the speed and dig deep and we pushed each other to the end...although I will admit it, and am happy to do so, he finished first!!!! 9:18, 9:02, 9:05, 8:55</div>
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<b><i>Ok this is from 18 months ago but it sums Saturday's run up perfectly...nothing more attractive than a husband beating you at running...</i></b></div>
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This run was all that I could hope for. It took 1:49:33. Other times I would not be smiling from ear to ear. Other times I would think I used to run a half in 1:47 or 1:51. Not today. Today I recognize where I am and know that there is no number defining perfect. My runs are not defined by whether I beat a PR from 5 years ago or not. They are not necessarily about if you hurt or not, because at points I did hurt. But for me, these runs, these perfect runs were about enjoying time with my family, seeing my husband begin to become the runner I know he can be, and feel as if I am flying whether that is 7 minute miles or 11 minute miles.</div>
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<b><i>Post run bliss</i></b></div>
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Hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and father's day!</div>
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<b><i>Tell me, what is your definition of a perfect run?</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-53631779835771482262013-06-13T17:51:00.001-07:002013-06-13T17:51:49.032-07:00A 5, no 4.1 Mile Race Recap?!?!?So...I ran a race. Do you remember this is a running blog? Sometimes I talk about running right? Like <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2013/06/a-story-book-for-lee-on-our-run-today.html">here</a> and <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2013/05/how-far-would-you-go-to-finish-run.html">here</a>. But I have not been doing much writing on racing or what is to come. I have not mentioned many goals and aspirations. Thus, most of you probably did not know that I ran a race last Saturday. Geez, it is almost a week ago and I am only now getting to the recap. <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2013/06/lees-first-second-race.html"> Lee</a> did his recap ages ago. That could possibly be because Lee is not as self conscious about his running as I tend to be of late.<br />
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<b><i>Ready to run</i></b></div>
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As I have mentioned <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2013/01/running-humble-but-running.html">before</a>, running postpartum has been a struggle for me. I generally have not felt light and airy like others say they experience and many times I do not have it in me to push. A few weeks ago, however I resigned not to let this get to me. No more, "woe is me I am not at the same pace I used to be" type thinking. From now on, I am thinking about goals, where I am going, and finding the runner in me. It will come. I know it because I am going to push it to front and center ;) Do not mess with me.<br />
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<b><i>Determination</i></b></div>
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With this in mind, I went into one of my favorite races of all time, the Squirrel Run, on Saturday. This is a 5 mile race put on each year by my coach to benefit ALS. Leading up to this race, I kept saying to everyone that this would not be a fast race, it would not be anywhere close to what I used to be able to do. But deep down I kept imagining myself placing and going fast. I just knew somewhere in my legs was that 37:04 record I held from two years ago. I even went as far as looking up race times from the year before to get an idea of how fast I had to go.<br />
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Initially, I was going to run this race with Aaron and Lee. I was going to push Lee, but my knees have been acting up and thus Aaron took over the job. I could have stayed with them and I battled over this choice. Ultimately, I decided that I needed to run this race on my terms although it made me super sad not to be running with my boys.<br />
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<b><i>Hard not to run with these cuties</i></b></div>
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As we lined up for the race, I said to my coach (who runs the race too) that I wanted to go fast - he told me to go fast for the last 3 miles. Of course, I did not listen. I ran down the starting hill as fast my legs would carry me. I knew I could do this. I wanted to push. I wanted to win! (ok, no I was not winning the whole race but you know what I mean). So I did. I pushed. We were not even at Mile 1 and I was huffing and puffing but I did not care, I had something to prove....<br />
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<i>Mile 1...7:40</i><br />
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Mile 2 began.... Did I mention my Garmin had died on the way to the race? Yea, uh that was fun. Well in that way I had my out. It was not my fault I was going out too fast. I did not have my watch. Even though it would not take a genius to know the smart thing to do would be to slow down. But I did not want to. I wanted to see what I had, I wanted to go - so I did. <br />
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<i>Mile 2...7:40</i><br />
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Somewhere around Mile 3 it started to get harder. There were longer larger hills and I was hurting. People were passing me, it made me want to just walk. I resisted. I remembered my mantras - I told myself I decided I needed to run this race alone instead of with my family so I better do it; I reminded myself that if I could give birth naturally than I could do this; and I told myself to dig deep<br />
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<i>Mile 3 ...???? I don't know, remember the Garmin died and I did not hear what the announcer was saying on times, my guess around 8:05</i><br />
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Mile 4 or shall I say 4.11 was tough, I felt like I was going to throw up (which is the best test to tell you that you are pushing hard enough in my opinion anyway), I felt like I wanted to walk, I felt like my legs were led. But then I saw it...the finish line?!?! Now I was just super confused. I did not have my Garmin and a running brain is a funny thing so I started wondering whether they changed the course distance and I did not know or I was super fast (clearly, you would think it would be the latter). Turns out neither was right...Either way, I pushed up the hill to the finish.<br />
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<b><i>Ok, so I recycled this from two years ago but you get the point</i></b></div>
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What ended up happening? It appears that somewhere along the course someone took a wrong turn and everyone followed! Therefore, my official new 5 miler PR is 32:45 (or if you want to be technically my new 4.11 mile PR).<br />
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I should have been ecstatic - I was 5th in my age group and the 14th woman. But in reality I was disappointed. I really thought I had it in me to place (3rd place in my age group was 20 seconds faster than me). But it didn't happen, not at this race. Am I still a bit disappoint? Yes. But do I know it is still in there somewhere and I will continue to chase it? Hell Yes!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVxFEW9pKNzuLEYQDCdTL_QU1gbcTPDX6U2z5yhpDE1J1-DA47eQKMWIw4RmC8TD6o9r4QVVPZare1kd1IEJniNOLqvfRHZV8RjIS-hH9ZGLCa9JfqVaonybADMMZ1oXnZ__Gql7JaUvQ/s1600/IMG_2553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVxFEW9pKNzuLEYQDCdTL_QU1gbcTPDX6U2z5yhpDE1J1-DA47eQKMWIw4RmC8TD6o9r4QVVPZare1kd1IEJniNOLqvfRHZV8RjIS-hH9ZGLCa9JfqVaonybADMMZ1oXnZ__Gql7JaUvQ/s320/IMG_2553.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Post Race Lovins - how can anyone be that upset</i></b></div>
<br />
What I was much more excited about was Aaron and Lee's race...Lee already told you his story, you will have to wait for Aaron to tell you his own because he rocked it...<br />
<br />
<b><i>How was it for you running postpartum or after a break in running? Ever disappointed in your race even though you know deep down you should be happy? Ever go the wrong way on race day?</i></b>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-84538425880604393482013-06-11T15:15:00.000-07:002013-06-11T15:15:03.484-07:00Breast is Best...or is it?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]--><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This is late coming but the winner of the Trail Sweepstakes is Bigzigfitness! Please e-mail me at 26.2runforfun@gmail.com </i><br />
<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Note:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This post is not meant to offend anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is just my story and what worked for my
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have felt the need to
write this post since Lee was 5 weeks old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I want moms out there to know that they are not alone and they are in no
way bad mothers for using formula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
here we go…</i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When people meet Baby Lee (as we
sometimes refer to him) or rather Lee Michael, the first comment is always “He
is such a happy baby.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it is
true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not like to brag about it
especially to other parents who may be having a hard time, because it can be so so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hard</i> (having been there
I get it).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, he really is a very <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very </i>happy baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aaron and I often joke that someone must have
finally cut us a break.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcjI3ptUgPaUXfL_wUkjSs7-XSchmtZMaoqwMH9ydHhlQxT8F6N2__SGpFeI3kwqpUrV8J9q7sAoQ4rpqZQp9FvlghjWyyHyrtPAQrlCufblHcHLKInIpAXGU8VH3yuqtT1OXeagKa-sY/s1600/baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcjI3ptUgPaUXfL_wUkjSs7-XSchmtZMaoqwMH9ydHhlQxT8F6N2__SGpFeI3kwqpUrV8J9q7sAoQ4rpqZQp9FvlghjWyyHyrtPAQrlCufblHcHLKInIpAXGU8VH3yuqtT1OXeagKa-sY/s320/baby.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Happy Baby!</b></i></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBdld3UACb8rIh47LImfzlztil9sAn2KKKHPv6nzM2jNGpiz1WlTak62mYzQt_ZHO4CLQWwHCuv8rDGCH1ckmQ7C2AFFb4V2MfP2RkS0Bso5F8CDFIuiz0vp_vYQ4fpXSta31CL-VuSWP/s1600/batman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvBdld3UACb8rIh47LImfzlztil9sAn2KKKHPv6nzM2jNGpiz1WlTak62mYzQt_ZHO4CLQWwHCuv8rDGCH1ckmQ7C2AFFb4V2MfP2RkS0Bso5F8CDFIuiz0vp_vYQ4fpXSta31CL-VuSWP/s320/batman.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Very Happy Baby</b></i></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
However, Lee was not always a happy baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the first 5 weeks of his
life, he cried 24/7.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I know babies
cry and at first Lee seemed to just cry like any normal baby but by two weeks of
age it was clear that his crying was not normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I specifically remember the first time he
spit up and began crying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew the cry
was different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a painful
cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBDLza-v3k5C-ZoRfDI8DB_dhUdowxR2qlsw3l4HBnzbA19LD2zAx-OIxqMOpqDoteEd9ZvC0MUAjKcVwhhLkoQOq9ig8p1MirHZjomsuaZ-ATFjdRpKEJET2R8tCYAe7Ofgw_2D_nqUo/s1600/cries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBDLza-v3k5C-ZoRfDI8DB_dhUdowxR2qlsw3l4HBnzbA19LD2zAx-OIxqMOpqDoteEd9ZvC0MUAjKcVwhhLkoQOq9ig8p1MirHZjomsuaZ-ATFjdRpKEJET2R8tCYAe7Ofgw_2D_nqUo/s1600/cries.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>No mom I am not happy, nope not in the least</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b> </b></i> </div>
From that point on, he never seemed to stop
crying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would be awake from 9 a.m. to
4 p.m. At 4 p.m., he would finally take a 1 to 2 hour nap and then be back up and down for
the remainder of the night until 9 a.m. came around once again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I now know
why they use sleep deprivation as a form of getting people to disclose
information – it is awful and crazy making.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew Lee’s cry was not
normal, I knew there was something wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I kept telling everyone, but it seemed like no one would believe
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was suffering from <span id="goog_713433609"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/">postpartum
anxiety<span id="goog_713433610"></span></a> and I think people just basically, justifiably thought it was
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span>I may not have before, but since becoming a mom, I truly believe in a mother’s
instinct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At our four week appointment, I
approached the doctor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He believed me
and tested Lee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It became clear
quite quickly that Lee was one of the many babies who had not yet developed the
enzyme needed to break down cow milk protein. This means he was, in essence,
allergic to the cow milk he was getting from me through my breast milk, and
that was a lot of cow milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During
pregnancy, I wanted nothing to do with yogurt, but postpartum I was having at
least two Chobanis a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It pains me
even now to think that my baby suffered. It makes me want to cry.<br />
<br />
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQq9CJwO1qQUuhZblbxgq-kGRvQVchnXD4XJtDz7pThoCQXaOxb4K-zjbdBxMPM2N0b1uvzcPa7lx2Sl-gYskSJZ0IA-voqYvxCFPOU1q3lyw2O7d8_vAff5lqMnc4xqPyXWmOwn6ru5-N/s1600/cries3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQq9CJwO1qQUuhZblbxgq-kGRvQVchnXD4XJtDz7pThoCQXaOxb4K-zjbdBxMPM2N0b1uvzcPa7lx2Sl-gYskSJZ0IA-voqYvxCFPOU1q3lyw2O7d8_vAff5lqMnc4xqPyXWmOwn6ru5-N/s1600/cries3.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Duh Mom, I am in PAIN!!! STOP WITH THE YOGURT!</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At that doctor’s appointment, my
doctor simply stated, <i>no problem you will just go off dairy and soy for a year
or so.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i> </i> </span>He said it like it was no big
deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was on the verge of tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sleep deprieved, overly anxious, and
now this guy was telling me no more dairy and soy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this was not just no more icecream this
meant anything that had any traces of dairy or soy. Now, I know a lot of people
live very healthy, happy lives on this type of diet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that is not for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Based on my history, my health needs, and my palate,
a dairy, soy-free diet would not work for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I knew this instantly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may <strike>or
may not have</strike> have given the doctor a piece of my mind at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I <strike>may have</strike> acted like a 5 year old
stating that <i>“the kid would be getting formula</i>.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
doctor told me to think about it, that he would support my decision, but also
told me how important breast milk is and that while it is an inconvenice, it is
not the end of the world to give these things up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bLgG8AAH0IuNRwtjTEXGsq7cwAMCAwQf2E4RTaJ4FVf3HxTLJDGvn0ySIuRMHYlIIffKlQJTaq2vnjbH71csqZs_Ma9lMdyI_7FKc5Svl2zm9TqnRuTxZZX61McKbjf_GGX-qvzXHatN/s1600/SDC10399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bLgG8AAH0IuNRwtjTEXGsq7cwAMCAwQf2E4RTaJ4FVf3HxTLJDGvn0ySIuRMHYlIIffKlQJTaq2vnjbH71csqZs_Ma9lMdyI_7FKc5Svl2zm9TqnRuTxZZX61McKbjf_GGX-qvzXHatN/s320/SDC10399.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Apparently people have missed the memo about my love for all things dairy</i></b></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I stormed out of the office, put
Lee in the car, and I sat and cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was so upset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was even angry at Lee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But more so I was angry at myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How selfish I am, I thought, to not want to
do what is “best” for my baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wondered why I was making such a big deal out of things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had always told myself, going into this,
that if breastfeeding worked, then great and if not, that is O.K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never got it when friends talked about how
disappointed they were that breastfeeding did not work out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just did not seem like it was a big
deal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns out, it does feel like a
really <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> big deal when you are in
it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After composing myself, Lee and I
went the only place we could – my <a href="http://westfordmommy.blogspot.com/">running partner’s</a> house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talked at length.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She let me know that she did not think
breastfeeding was for me and that, that was O.K.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She let me cry and be angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over
the next week,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went through hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went off dairy and soy all together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aaron did too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so enraged that I told Aaron if I had
to do this, so did he.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was a very
good sport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had countless conversations
with friends, family, doctors, and therapists over what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deep down, I knew I wanted to go with formula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Insurance would fully cover it,
so that was not an issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone could
help more, so I could sleep and try to kick the anxiety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lee would be happy and off dairy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were so many positives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was so hard for me to see that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I could see was that I was a failure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I could worry about was that we would go
off breastmilk and my milk would dry up and I would have made a BIG
mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worried about losing my bond
with my baby. I worried about the importance of breastmilk. You name it, I worried about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am not sure who cried more that week, Lee or me.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnY6sT4JhPLJV2EX7cDzqob_qWLs8DaANtBZqb1WTYn2XsYfSXlBya_ANF8Gfj33S2OhZ3sMhTm1kX-aUy1M9dIXRGj789gnQIY782phxO9y3qXov0jfodTZ7WbzlILTk5cVSIpFi9NMar/s1600/SDC10472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnY6sT4JhPLJV2EX7cDzqob_qWLs8DaANtBZqb1WTYn2XsYfSXlBya_ANF8Gfj33S2OhZ3sMhTm1kX-aUy1M9dIXRGj789gnQIY782phxO9y3qXov0jfodTZ7WbzlILTk5cVSIpFi9NMar/s320/SDC10472.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Ok we did not take pictures but that is basically what it looked like but worse</i></b></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Aaron quickly saw that the right decision was formula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So for the week we decided to do an
experiment where Lee would get formula and breastmilk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The idea being maybe I would just breastfeed
a little and give formula the other times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was, in the end, ridiculous for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The whole point was that (a) I could not give up dairy and soy and (b) I
was sick with anxiety, so how would breastfeeding just a little less help?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would still have to give up dairy and soy
and could not fully recover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That week
was more of a mourning process for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had to let breastfeeding go, but I could not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everything I had learned taught me that formula was the devil and that I
<u>must</u> breastfeed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So for the week,
we did both, with me pumping in the corner while Aaron fed Lee. It sucked! I
HATE pumping. I am so happy I will not be there again.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXvFL00PAtvyRgkVyUIkt-NQsdRVTdFpuURLP-Hg5rxIPkZKU683lBeCPXY_dhRG39PQVdeiGt5KrYVFpYXAY6Mbon88c3496GvSCST2dIMkMuMlnqqZIsICIySO8sCsrAy7sLWnFpmMI/s1600/IMG_1496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXvFL00PAtvyRgkVyUIkt-NQsdRVTdFpuURLP-Hg5rxIPkZKU683lBeCPXY_dhRG39PQVdeiGt5KrYVFpYXAY6Mbon88c3496GvSCST2dIMkMuMlnqqZIsICIySO8sCsrAy7sLWnFpmMI/s320/IMG_1496.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Baby Tears - so awful...</i></b></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At the end of the week, I saw my
midwife, she diagnosed me with postpartum anxiety brought on by hormonal
changes, the 24/7 crying, you name it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
treat it, she believed I needed medication and therapy. It was recommended that moms do not
breastfeed on this medication.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was
the “out” I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Looking back on it,
I am sad that I needed an “out” to make this decision.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at that moment, I was too far “in it” to
make a change without a push.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vX34kC-mRZoQw0WhgC9tZRn4xF8T7sdZD8QQlK5hx4XW2T9oTmJu7uI0SMmVDK8qzB3FATqZZLPV89Oc7VxRxiF3bCnhHNTw2_4cCi10TVgwE2bPDl3_1HknvHaKoC478-d4c66-WPfY/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vX34kC-mRZoQw0WhgC9tZRn4xF8T7sdZD8QQlK5hx4XW2T9oTmJu7uI0SMmVDK8qzB3FATqZZLPV89Oc7VxRxiF3bCnhHNTw2_4cCi10TVgwE2bPDl3_1HknvHaKoC478-d4c66-WPfY/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><a href="http://www.enfamil.com/app/iwp/enf12/product.do?dm=enf&id=/Consumer_Home3/FeedingSolutions/NutramigenLIPIL2&iwpst=B2C&ls=0&csred=1&r=3548418571">Nutramigen</a> here we come!</b></i></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Going off breastmilk was one of
the best decisions we ever made for Lee and for our entire family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was as if a light had turned on inside of
Lee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crying stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was like night and day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of a sudden, he woke up, he ate, he took
a nap, repeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He noticed things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZv-cE_RE0yf2CtLEckR3jF0zvklk95Hd_0c7cwcbueltn7PAazW-puGIbOgFktQnmwkgFkvpISFWX_M5CLnvnDSX4hxqiznNDk-iEvQHxG5K1cDwT3bh9Qcdmc0qFT5GanLWqlicmeuIN/s1600/smiles5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZv-cE_RE0yf2CtLEckR3jF0zvklk95Hd_0c7cwcbueltn7PAazW-puGIbOgFktQnmwkgFkvpISFWX_M5CLnvnDSX4hxqiznNDk-iEvQHxG5K1cDwT3bh9Qcdmc0qFT5GanLWqlicmeuIN/s1600/smiles5.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Almost immediately, his night feedings went down to two, then one, then
none.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I should not say this, I
know it may just be Lee, but since 8 weeks he has slept through the night
without a peep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure I am jinxing
us now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not even want to define for
you what that means “sleeping through the night” but be sure it is much more
than I get in a night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe this is
just Lee?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that is a part of
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe we are just amazing parents?
Well, we like to think so (LOL).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe someone
caught us a break but we are screwed next time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Possibly - I am in denial on that one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, most likely, a significant part
has to do with the formula as well.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgSCljpvCJWRid7lQtfy0p4F49FgrZvfygyyhwyVqsI3s4Ri2s3u25-Txp4F1lh9sriDMLZI1ZUdqQcET3mxhdpkmFu_QTAFd67sjWe-bi-y6L7ZIaPVOt9fQc3gyDf3K_kccnZWDUonu/s1600/sleeping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgSCljpvCJWRid7lQtfy0p4F49FgrZvfygyyhwyVqsI3s4Ri2s3u25-Txp4F1lh9sriDMLZI1ZUdqQcET3mxhdpkmFu_QTAFd67sjWe-bi-y6L7ZIaPVOt9fQc3gyDf3K_kccnZWDUonu/s320/sleeping.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I admit it - I love sneaking into Lee's room at night and watching him sleep...the sweetest thing ever </b></i></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lee is almost 7 months old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is truly the" happiest baby on the
block.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">" </span>I wish I was as happy as Lee. He
engages everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aaron says he has my
social personality with his relaxed disposition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has continued to grow and be healthy. He
is about average in weight and above average in height.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has never been sick (seriously, now I am
just asking for it).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is full of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I promise I am not saying that formula, especially Nutramigen,
was the only key, but for us, I believe it to be a large part of the puzzle.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Smiles!</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyOKbTYUM6uK6cOOZHQ7YA8HzSLIo3uQiMV4moHY47VEOjCcJC_p6c0UVRzZflrp7aVmznUPCuDg5ko4y0urVu1UJTFee8SmKfsBUx7Z50rVUv0_gkbKNhQ4_5kpuVYTdXScsgxQv2MQp/s1600/smiles1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnyOKbTYUM6uK6cOOZHQ7YA8HzSLIo3uQiMV4moHY47VEOjCcJC_p6c0UVRzZflrp7aVmznUPCuDg5ko4y0urVu1UJTFee8SmKfsBUx7Z50rVUv0_gkbKNhQ4_5kpuVYTdXScsgxQv2MQp/s320/smiles1.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>More Smiles!</b></i> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2GPj7BKZiIj0rjow-WAsKt_gsOepq5Xy2DaIn16jKjxi1ecAl4lJXqaXqG6NdsqRXwZ0kIBkR0U_BoXQweO7Di9BPtDvInFXvTj-trACX9UyCxyePuwj2oTnwxqcE1e3pxyWmnojSOcZ/s1600/smiles3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2GPj7BKZiIj0rjow-WAsKt_gsOepq5Xy2DaIn16jKjxi1ecAl4lJXqaXqG6NdsqRXwZ0kIBkR0U_BoXQweO7Di9BPtDvInFXvTj-trACX9UyCxyePuwj2oTnwxqcE1e3pxyWmnojSOcZ/s320/smiles3.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>More and More Smiles!</b></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje0vkAl_PGfDZl-PDLZNdf1VrO2hGKT0UyG1_UR6ryMd5XdOBErcXbW9jchvpTpb8QcK3iFwFTkOmm39wYU6VTAlIXGFtFH-PhZWkm0xReUnAz72z_52PrR8WVeq8I_L18yWLoU-W8gQfz/s1600/smiles4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
For me, I love Lee so much it hurts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
the beginning, I could not say that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
could not see much. I was so anxious, so unhappy, and so sleep deprived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not know where to turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not help my baby and felt that I was,
of course, a bad mother. I was a bad mother for not catching it sooner, I was a
bad mother for not trying hard with breastfeeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took time to move on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took medicine and doctors for the anxiety
to lessen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as it did and Lee continued
with formula I began to finally enjoy my baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To bond with my baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I was
breastfeeding, we were not bonding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was crying, Lee was crying, we were a crying a mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Lee became full of life, I also came up
for air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more pumping, no more
midnight feedings, no more “breast is best,” and no more feeling judge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People say “happy mommy, happy baby.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you wonder if they are just being
nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could care less what people
think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My baby is happy, my family
happy, I am happy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsKfXxyWyjn7e9i_t6ufGSzDhqrHaK-kA3Y18ExqeAeQLWalGrUVAxIZ6IjAkzEwqVFzWJBV7LcMenKFSWqLPwPLLJelBIabXoMt5ShtjgV5fhrnFvHBkwom5s4fwE2IT-zOtGbmwr0CZ/s1600/smiles6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsKfXxyWyjn7e9i_t6ufGSzDhqrHaK-kA3Y18ExqeAeQLWalGrUVAxIZ6IjAkzEwqVFzWJBV7LcMenKFSWqLPwPLLJelBIabXoMt5ShtjgV5fhrnFvHBkwom5s4fwE2IT-zOtGbmwr0CZ/s320/smiles6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
For Aaron, going to formula was a
delight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He finally felt he could
help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Breastfeeding is really a lonely
experience and it does truly leave the husband or partner left out to dry. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the day we started Aaron was overjoyed to
take on feedings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took the night
feedings that were left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhUEmCVWDY4B2BrTOmGDTyM51tR8podcl1nrAyZq8kmBD2HqqDDMQbW8bDUj0THZtFSFaX1M698z-RsdMNAZKOoK9nYL_q-A0g98lTPvYDApaFHHqDgrc-cEzE9tY0a3nTwISPENqEMC3/s1600/daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhUEmCVWDY4B2BrTOmGDTyM51tR8podcl1nrAyZq8kmBD2HqqDDMQbW8bDUj0THZtFSFaX1M698z-RsdMNAZKOoK9nYL_q-A0g98lTPvYDApaFHHqDgrc-cEzE9tY0a3nTwISPENqEMC3/s1600/daddy.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <i><b>Happy Daddy , Happy Baby!</b></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went to
visit family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a week off from
night feedings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dad took Lee in his
room for two nights, my aunt and uncle took him for two nights, and my husband
took two nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a wreck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed to sleep and be well. I could not do
that breastfeeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But with the bottle
all of this was possible. I know, you can pump and get relief, but ladies it is NOT the same, and did I mention how much pumping sucks...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-Ca5Jq1b4Ls3O6ZruHmClT8Umggc7jGtZR92bg1qb-Egt5brflQt46Tw9kJfr0Ykb_60jKhS2ug8i-noH2vD89uKWkzqFsXoUMBGueNscuWxNhZuCVphAKVODimHfA3cyrQXO3h60ccn/s1600/bottlegrandpa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-Ca5Jq1b4Ls3O6ZruHmClT8Umggc7jGtZR92bg1qb-Egt5brflQt46Tw9kJfr0Ykb_60jKhS2ug8i-noH2vD89uKWkzqFsXoUMBGueNscuWxNhZuCVphAKVODimHfA3cyrQXO3h60ccn/s1600/bottlegrandpa.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>My dad fed him...</b></i></div>
<br />
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3bqv8LTIkTUijNhXEGacPp_PflVHYaIXXUvgk9NV8qn3dYxzrYTnkCgFlTyNeXAOjVEQ0-nYqQugS3CV8VTn0nxWzFsjs1yTV-MVxrQNjKXwxLK7zv3QwppWWPrF9PaldOQz1mLujdv8L/s1600/bottle1aunt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3bqv8LTIkTUijNhXEGacPp_PflVHYaIXXUvgk9NV8qn3dYxzrYTnkCgFlTyNeXAOjVEQ0-nYqQugS3CV8VTn0nxWzFsjs1yTV-MVxrQNjKXwxLK7zv3QwppWWPrF9PaldOQz1mLujdv8L/s1600/bottle1aunt.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>My aunt fed him..</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxCZe1jrJKgPfBk11BdQi12rtCoNQjJMFC_YOlrD0lZx1BslVkNxtxH0JChOZM8gcVm-sNm_KCDbfTX5wtItJG21RGsbA0SIVnt3grPKnxl10JMmkICjuAIlXErVtjbnxUuBQDF_SZSHg/s1600/IMG_1650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxCZe1jrJKgPfBk11BdQi12rtCoNQjJMFC_YOlrD0lZx1BslVkNxtxH0JChOZM8gcVm-sNm_KCDbfTX5wtItJG21RGsbA0SIVnt3grPKnxl10JMmkICjuAIlXErVtjbnxUuBQDF_SZSHg/s320/IMG_1650.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Aaron fed him...</b></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRDdbTlSnKqPQuVMliX003A0JwsC3lIh35-XEnJQUJrjaUM9z0g8O8mDuvKZwU99nU8LV2D5Be2-ugfTv4oj1TmCoxnJC9RdjUtgFhcXQ1oDAz9Nut5_NCBUQJDP39NkTbBPUF5i51ptT/s1600/bottlelee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczWu6nnrOAK4DpNaVm_PIyqilN_LWYgOjxmrIKF5kNWvRv3dgQBpO69zQ7LCOYPc-QwLHFTysQBXoi-XErJN6aODRARcjzojTaJ1uTD_GPNHm1ybj47sgzvjmPLULnPT47lwLCaNinFt-/s1600/bottlemommy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczWu6nnrOAK4DpNaVm_PIyqilN_LWYgOjxmrIKF5kNWvRv3dgQBpO69zQ7LCOYPc-QwLHFTysQBXoi-XErJN6aODRARcjzojTaJ1uTD_GPNHm1ybj47sgzvjmPLULnPT47lwLCaNinFt-/s320/bottlemommy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>I fed him...</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRDdbTlSnKqPQuVMliX003A0JwsC3lIh35-XEnJQUJrjaUM9z0g8O8mDuvKZwU99nU8LV2D5Be2-ugfTv4oj1TmCoxnJC9RdjUtgFhcXQ1oDAz9Nut5_NCBUQJDP39NkTbBPUF5i51ptT/s1600/bottlelee.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRDdbTlSnKqPQuVMliX003A0JwsC3lIh35-XEnJQUJrjaUM9z0g8O8mDuvKZwU99nU8LV2D5Be2-ugfTv4oj1TmCoxnJC9RdjUtgFhcXQ1oDAz9Nut5_NCBUQJDP39NkTbBPUF5i51ptT/s1600/bottlelee.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Lee fed himself, no big deal mom</b></i></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I do not want to make it sound
like this is the best thing ever or give people the wrong impression. It really
is what is best for you and your family whether it is breastfeeding or bottle
feeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, I feel it is necessary to
put such a spin on bottle feeding because no one does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, maybe some, but most make you feel
like you are the worst mother to ever set foot on this earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if they don’t say it, you feel
judged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems like only a select few
really were truly behind me and whatever decision I/we made.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I want moms to know, those who are pregnant, looking to become pregnant, have babies already –
that you have a choice and either choice is really O.K. No, I mean it,<b> IT IS
O.K.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><b> </b> </span>For me, I am like PUT MY BABY’S
FACE ON THE FORMULA BOTTLE BECAUSE I LOVE FORMULA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> THANK YOU<a href="http://www.enfamil.com/app/iwp/enfamil/enfHome10.do?dm=enf&ls=0&csred=1&r=3548418490"> ENFAMIL</a> </span>It saved our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For others, breastfeeding is a wonderful experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either way, you can be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either way you are a good mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please remember that.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitG33UzYyFbRP0VkYgy8w9NgR441d3uC-KL0FXzLo2bjVhwjfEYR3rTXX5_aeU4M1Etfk4KwMkUvtTNlDArpd5S1h4MxLrLlKK-1LK1HmxIQjPAjE_ytfs7hY1ANSYVMOghndtakDD9x2x/s1600/mom+and+lee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitG33UzYyFbRP0VkYgy8w9NgR441d3uC-KL0FXzLo2bjVhwjfEYR3rTXX5_aeU4M1Etfk4KwMkUvtTNlDArpd5S1h4MxLrLlKK-1LK1HmxIQjPAjE_ytfs7hY1ANSYVMOghndtakDD9x2x/s1600/mom+and+lee.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Mother's Day 2013 - fully present and happy</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And with that, this maybe the longest post ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope you stuck with me and I hope this
helped some of you.</div>
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<i><b>Had enough pictures?</b></i> </div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Are you breastfeeding or
bottlefeeding? What are your thoughts?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Did you ever feel like this either with breastfeeding, bottle feeding, or with things that have nothing to do with babies whatsoever.... </span></i></b></div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-53185945240234860312013-06-09T13:18:00.000-07:002013-06-09T13:18:03.192-07:00Lee's First & Second Race<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbr_sbHz9RrMXInRrea9g7m8L6U1C1KUoXSAQR0tmHX7u5TnLIglVyNF-yPXVw7-ANglx0Kngtq9K78NpLj5fM4YIIIzCUd3M_Uzaq99VoZ7SOnorLKxNiJnQ074roS5-CSERSTEZgZN1/s1600/DSC_0500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbr_sbHz9RrMXInRrea9g7m8L6U1C1KUoXSAQR0tmHX7u5TnLIglVyNF-yPXVw7-ANglx0Kngtq9K78NpLj5fM4YIIIzCUd3M_Uzaq99VoZ7SOnorLKxNiJnQ074roS5-CSERSTEZgZN1/s320/DSC_0500.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>This is not my medal. Nope, wish it was - this is Lee's medal (he also a ribbon) from his second of two races that he participated in yesterday. </i></b></div>
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There are a ton of firsts in our life, our children's lives, and our loved ones' lives; some we find more important than others. For us, runners, well at least for me, this was a BIG first. The baby book wants me to write the date he first held his head up, I cannot remember. But I sure will remember June 8, 2013 - the day of Lee's first (and second) race. Where is the line in the baby book for that? I was thinking of how to write this post actually while I was running the race yesterday. I knew there was only one way to write it and remember the day by. I, however, cannot take the credit for the idea. <a href="http://www.runnerstrials.com/">Jen </a>came up with this style in her blog when W ran his first race. You need to check out her post (Jen, help link please?!?). Thus, this will be written from the perspective of the man himself, Mr. Lee.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3nyzis9vt6s7nUa4CAo5l7Hmnl1C5unTWi1ugUJYxesykQSE8RCexZ0j-sXt1-a_wuoITXN6Lee3nMBLAcbZdUxr9tkxP0YIhIOZ0mBASWIoxxU7hXDcy6WdOmDFQk_JftXU7EGx0MpIf/s1600/SDC10897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3nyzis9vt6s7nUa4CAo5l7Hmnl1C5unTWi1ugUJYxesykQSE8RCexZ0j-sXt1-a_wuoITXN6Lee3nMBLAcbZdUxr9tkxP0YIhIOZ0mBASWIoxxU7hXDcy6WdOmDFQk_JftXU7EGx0MpIf/s320/SDC10897.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Don't I look excited - Game Face People, Game Face</i></b></div>
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I had a great night sleep before the race. But in the morning, I could not wait. I was up bright and early excited about race day, but worried about the rain. It was still pouring out. I like my bath and pool as much as the next baby, but I am not sure about this whole running in the rain thing.<br />
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No matter, I fueled up quickly - oatmeal and formula, took a quick nap, and got into my race attire raring to go.<br />
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<b><i>Let's fly!</i></b></div>
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We got to the race and I stayed dry underneath my wonderful, new weather shield Daddy bought me yesterday. There was so much going on, it was hard to keep focused, but I knew it was race day so Daddy, our friend Scott, and I began our warm up. Mommy disappeared...something about a knee being taped and multiple bathroom trips that needed to occur before the race (this is why I have my diaper people!)</div>
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We did some sprints to warm up and then we took the obligatory (I know I have a good vocabulary) race photos. Soooo many photos --- mom always makes us take soooo many photos, I will spare you. But while we were taking photos the rain stopped and we knew we would have a good race after all. We quickly removed unneeded layers like my weather shield and lined up to get going. Mommy gave me kissed and headed to the front and Daddy and I stayed in the middle of the pack with our friend Scott.</div>
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<b><i>YAY Running!!</i></b></div>
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efore I knew it, we were off. I had my game face on as we rolled along and loved when we got to pass other people during Mile 1. At Mile 2, things started to get hard and I did not like it. The wind was not fun, not fun at all, but I kept in high spirits. At Mile 3, we said goodbye to Scott as his knee was hurting and just kept on pushing up and up the big hills. </div>
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Then all of a sudden before I knew it there was mommy cheering for us like crazy. She is very loud. She ran next to us for the final last steps and we crossed the finish line together. Strange though, this was supposed to be a 5 mile race. Daddy and I were pacing for 5, apparently someone got confused...not us. </div>
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Oh well I had my second race to prepare for - now the kids only race. This race was quicker! It was just a little 25 yard dash. I think Mommy was more excited to me. She grabbed me straight out of Daddy's hands and ran to the start - we almost missed it. Then, she ran me straight done the field.</div>
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<b><i>Can you find mommy and me - hint look for a sparkle skirt</i></b></div>
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<i>Finally, </i>we were done. I need to rest! That was a lot, but all of a sudden I ended up on my first pony. Not so much bigger than Wubby really....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOXZvL_bGmXtmGAYoK2HGUZaNUgCpHWiBR4Ad3wfeKHc7m4FZ5RDQBw4pl0udN5hH1Y7bF-ZcclhbS1c0f44tNxwQ97ImWNap9cyqP4LaV8XH66AyzW-VCk7mrURULr9YyV2gya2jXvPI/s1600/SDC10911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOXZvL_bGmXtmGAYoK2HGUZaNUgCpHWiBR4Ad3wfeKHc7m4FZ5RDQBw4pl0udN5hH1Y7bF-ZcclhbS1c0f44tNxwQ97ImWNap9cyqP4LaV8XH66AyzW-VCk7mrURULr9YyV2gya2jXvPI/s320/SDC10911.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Seriously, Mom, chill!</i></b></div>
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<b><i>I AM HUNGRY & TIRED!</i></b></div>
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Ok then, then, I finally did rest and refuel! Next race is in less than a month. Daddy and I have a training run on schedule for Tuesday.</div>
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What was your first race like?Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-53705232399637082732013-06-06T17:59:00.001-07:002013-06-06T17:59:15.810-07:00Dream the Impossible DreamSo ummm, I may <strike>or may not </strike>have a race on Saturday. Where did that come from? With all this talk about babies, doulas, and all things little ones, I guess I failed to discuss this upcoming race. Actually, the real truth is that I have been in a little bit of dreamland or denial, it depends how you look at it.<br />
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See this race is a very important <a href="http://quincytrackclub.wordpress.com/2013/06/05/2013-squirrel-run/">race</a> to me. It is the race I could not run the first year I was with my P.T./coach. I was in bad shape. My knees were a mess. I remember learning about the race my P.T. was putting on and being extremely angry and sad that I could not run it, but at the same time, I was motivated as all hell to be at race the next year. The next year, I was at that race, that 5 mile wonderful race in Quincy clocking in a time of 37:12. But things were bittersweet that year and I was not at my healthiest of points. However, the following year, 2011, was my race year. I was back, I was healthy, and I was ready crushing it with a 37:04 and placing in my first race every - an extraordinary feeling.<br />
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<b><i><a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2011/06/day-i-fell-in-love-with-squirrels.html">Crushing it in 2011</a></i></b></div>
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This year I am running it, rain or shine - most likely rain. In my dreamland, I am going to go out there, throw down sub-8s and win another medal. No matter that this morning I did 10 minutes at 7:44 pace and it was HARD, no worries that it generally takes me 26 minutes to run 3 miles these days. Nope no problem because this is a magical race so I am sure things will be fine? So yea...there is that...<br />
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<b><i>Lovin Squirrels</i></b></div>
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And then there are my knees. They are "stirred up," a direct quote from my P.T. He is not worried, which is good because I am doing enough worrying for the two of us. <br />
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<b><i>P.T. and me</i></b></div>
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It does however mean I can not run with Lee in this race. I planned to win the stroller category even though there is not one. So now Aaron is braving the stroller challenge. I could run with him and Lee - that is what I do Run for Fun right? I love my family so so so much. It is also an easy way out - just have fun with my boys, don't worry about times. But truth is I also kind of want to race this thing and see what I can do. Yes, it may mean that I am no where near sub-8s and that Aaron breezes along passed me with Lee laughing about, but I just can't help wanting to try. I feel extremely conflicted about the choice of whether to go at it alone or stick with my men. I feel excited and guilty about just racing myself but then sad if I do not participate in my boy's first race....<br />
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<b><i>Because really how much of a better view could you get running</i></b></div>
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Eekkk what to do, what to do....<br />
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<b><i>How do you make a choice of running with someone or without whether it be baby or friend? Ever get impossible goals stuck in your head?</i></b>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-34512884626233269392013-06-04T16:45:00.002-07:002013-06-04T16:46:22.541-07:00Why Doulas are Essential to the Birthing Process<i style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Have you checked out my Sweepstakes for a free entry to a trail race? Go enter <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2013/05/a-trail-race-sweepstakes-free-race-entry.html" style="border: 0px; color: #888888; text-decoration: none;">here</a>!</i><br />
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As per a request from a very wonderful pregnant lady, today I thought we would take a pause from running to talk pregnancy and babies - sorry if this is boring to some please feel free not to read, but I am guessing others may find it of use...maybe. Btw, if you are so inclined here is <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2012/12/welcome-baby-lee.html">my birth stor</a>y.<br />
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When I first found out I was pregnant, I was sure that I would have an epidural. No question about it. I remember talking with a friend about it and she mentioned there was no need to be a hero when I told her I was having drugs. At the time, I could not have agreed more. However, I also knew I wanted to take child birth classes. My sister-in-law suggested <a href="http://www.bradleybirth.com/">Bradley</a> classes. I liked the idea of Bradley because it was a series of 12 classes, two hours each, one time a week. Some people might just want to go for a one time three hour class, and that is totally fine, but I am a student at heart and wanted more! The only problem I had with Bradley was that is was all based on natural child birth - something that I did not think was for me. Yet, since it was the only decently long class that would satisfy my inner student, we enrolled. At the very least, I figured we would make a friend. Luckily, the best thing Bradley gave us was a friendship with another couple who are near and dear to our hearts.<br />
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<b><i>It has now come to my attention that I only have pictures of Lee with my friends' twins and not of us, so yea there is that - picture to follow....</i></b></div>
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Anyway, long story short because this post is supposed to be about doulas (I can review Bradley another day if anyone is interested), I started to really drink<i> the Kool-Aid</i> about natural childbirth and decided I wanted to try it. I actually stopped telling people this except some of my closer friends because a lot of people laughed at me. I get it, I cry really easily, I don't like pain, but I also run marathons. When I am willing to endure the hurt, I am willing.<br />
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<b><i>Can you compare the pain of running to the pain of childbirth - a post for another day?</i></b></div>
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So at 36 weeks pregnant, we made the commitment to this whole natural child birth thing including staying at home during labor as long as possible. And at 36 weeks pregnant we switched to a midwife, a hospital that seemed more natural childbirth friendly, and embarked on a journey to find a doula. I knew we needed a doula. Bradley is all about husband based coaching, which is totally awesome, except for the fact that neither my husband nor myself had ever been through a birth before and it seemed like a coach should be someone with <i>some</i> type of experience. Luckily I found quite an amazing <a href="http://www.fitbirth.com/">lady</a>. <br />
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<b><i>This is actually like 37/38 weeks but its what I got so we are going with it.</i></b></div>
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<b><u>The Run Down on Doulas (from my experience)</u></b></div>
(1) They can be really pricey like over $1000. You can find a more reasonable one by using a student or a newly licensed doula; the downside to this is they have no lived experience. Our doula was a student but had many years experienced and was actually reasonably priced. But we had to search through some "bad eggs" to find her including one who did not believe in getting any type of vaccinations ever (sorry but you are not coming into my birthing room).<br />
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(2) They are there for you and your partner and that can be whatever that means to you both. They come and meet with you once or twice prior to labor and discuss your birthing plan and how they can help you accomplish that. Maybe your partner is out of town, they can be the person to stand in for him or her. Maybe your partner needs a break during labor (it can be long), they can provide that. Maybe you both need some coaching, they are good at that too.<br />
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(3) They are on call for you 24/7 for the two weeks leading up (it might be more like four) to your due date and after if you have not given birth yet. You can text, email, call, whenever for whatever. They are not doctors, although some are midwives, but they can answer your questions and help you determine what to do. When I thought I was in labor, I texted my doula and we were in constant communication. She knew right away that this was the "real thing" and told me what to do and that she would be there soon.<br />
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<b><i>The morning I knew things were going to happen, I made Aaron snap a quick photo. Yes this was after my 40 minute elliptical workout - just a little warm up jog before the marathon.</i></b></div>
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(4) They are there throughout your labor. I wanted to labor in the comfort of my own home. If you want the doula to come to your home, she will. If you do not, she can meet you at the hospital. I was like "GET THIS DOULA OVER HERE NOW." While I look to Aaron for comfort and support in every area of my life, for some reason while giving birth, the doula was the one who I needed. Do not get me wrong, Aaron helped a ton! But Leanne, my doula, new exactly how to touch my back to lessen the pain of back labor; when to tell me that it was time to pee, again; to make sure I was drinking; and finally when to go to the hospital. As an aside, Lee is named after my mother who passed away over a year ago, but when I met Leanne, it just felt so right that her name was also my mother's name, Lee Ann.<br />
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<b><i>Notice the lack of picture - yea this was not a photo kind of event</i></b></div>
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(5) When you are at the hospital the doula may be really engaged or a bit more mellow. I literally was hanging on to my doula as we entered the hospital. Aaron had to park the car so she was with me. She helped me change and go to the bathroom and was there for comfort. At which point, my midwife began to run the show. My doula took her cues from my midwife. I think she could sense that I needed the midwife at that point, but she was still a huge help in all the work we had left to do. And of course in the end took photos for us! How I do not have one with her is beyond me.<br />
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<b><i>I have no clue how people have perfect pictures right after birth. Who is going to have makeup on and look great after having a baby.</i></b></div>
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(6) She does a postpartum visit the purpose of which is to check in and see how you are doing and if all is going well. Honestly, I loved this because this woman was awesome. I was like <i>"can we please be friends in real life, you rock." </i><br />
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(7) What I loved about my doula was she was also a personal trainer, specifically, working with postpartum women and had awesome deals for her doula services and postpartum services.<br />
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Ultimately, I think everyone can benefit from having a doula. I never thought I would be saying this but they make the world of difference whether you are planning a natural child birth, a vaginal birth, or a cesarian. They are someone who knows the drill, can get you through the tough moments, and be a shoulder to lean on. To me, they are essential!!<br />
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I realize this blog post is long enough. I have more to say on what to look for in a doula, if people are interested I am happy to write more, if not we will leave it at that.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-fh65Aexi2di-JPxj5_z3xOlGRwSVLFqUoDpLsE2p9S7O55-umX_pA67X5OYsl5sCn3SGXTzShc_izWKaTKuK0z8Xp-UOqG-jR1b7LamT1FcSeLLnJ1VBO74ekynbjzzLdq1MDPiVStB/s1600/DSC_0481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-fh65Aexi2di-JPxj5_z3xOlGRwSVLFqUoDpLsE2p9S7O55-umX_pA67X5OYsl5sCn3SGXTzShc_izWKaTKuK0z8Xp-UOqG-jR1b7LamT1FcSeLLnJ1VBO74ekynbjzzLdq1MDPiVStB/s320/DSC_0481.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Ending with this because why not</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Did you have a doula? Do you have anything to add? Do you want to hear about Bradley classes and tips on finding a doula?</i></b></div>
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-63644775089311410912013-06-02T14:59:00.001-07:002013-06-02T14:59:24.114-07:00A Story Book for Lee - On Our Run Today. . . <i>Have you checked out my Sweepstakes for a free entry to a trail race? Go enter <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/2013/05/a-trail-race-sweepstakes-free-race-entry.html">here</a>!</i><br />
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On my run on Saturday, it was hot! I may have been really feeling the heat and going a little bit crazy. Luckily, the path I was running on was full with many animals and sounds of nature not only did it keep me company, but it gave me an idea for a children's book for Lee. In fact, some of the below is what I saw on Saturday. Yes, I am going to totally use Shutterfly to create it, but here is a sneak peak. I am still working the title, help me out Shutterfly deal ends on the 5th! Edits welcome. I am serious, totally making this book for little baby Lee.<br />
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<b><u>On Our Run Today</u></b></div>
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Mommy and Daddy like to run. Wubby likes to run too. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Sometimes, you even come with us and we run all together as a family.</span><br />
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When we go for a run, we see. . .</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">10</span></b> ducklings waddling along</div>
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<b><i>You are the cutest duckling of all</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>9 </b></span>dogs running with their moms and dads</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_rnLbNRwFdxAPrXuI_C3NEkelIEno9fCzTbF1cuhsnvJyghosbaTjMmDOupiU8sxCXWPytnZIN0teEX3FjSPaeI0NJfj9lSJeo586vhYfdQv7HuuYH__Rq_hMeNYrhswFOKPs9pLbXGK/s1600/DSC_0855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_rnLbNRwFdxAPrXuI_C3NEkelIEno9fCzTbF1cuhsnvJyghosbaTjMmDOupiU8sxCXWPytnZIN0teEX3FjSPaeI0NJfj9lSJeo586vhYfdQv7HuuYH__Rq_hMeNYrhswFOKPs9pLbXGK/s320/DSC_0855.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Wait that is Daddy and Wubby</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>8</b></span> people zooming past on their bicycles </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">7 </span></b>runners running along smiling ear to ear</div>
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<b><i>Mommy smiles when she runs</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>6 </b></span>other girls and boys just like you running or riding with their parents too</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>5 </b></span>turkeys, 1 daddy turkey and 4 baby turkeys</div>
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<b><i>You were Mommy's Little Turkey once upon a time</i></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">4 </span></b>tiny birds chirping in the trees</div>
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<b style="font-size: x-large;">3 </b>chipmunks scurrying along the way</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2</b></span> turtles - one big mommy turtle and one itty bitty baby turtle and </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">1 </span></b>happy family - Mommy, Daddy, Wubby, and Lee.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGtQk9oGox9JDzQHuXBCzfbAPXAaVuTCukZYD_c4KZBYtpgJ50Q8dTDYKZbMOfE8FnnAKEppmx95X9Z37D2yu6yb_OMz7tKoVTj1Ka2vkUaKSKc2btg-Ayqd8e5yZc2go4QrBPJbUj25K/s1600/photo+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGtQk9oGox9JDzQHuXBCzfbAPXAaVuTCukZYD_c4KZBYtpgJ50Q8dTDYKZbMOfE8FnnAKEppmx95X9Z37D2yu6yb_OMz7tKoVTj1Ka2vkUaKSKc2btg-Ayqd8e5yZc2go4QrBPJbUj25K/s1600/photo+3.jpg" /></a></div>
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When you grow up, you can run on your own if you want. And if not, that is O.K. too! No matter what we love you through and through.</div>
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<b><i>Any ideas on the title? Ever use Shutterfly or something like that to make a book (not just a photo book)?</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-55735606673958065612013-05-29T16:46:00.000-07:002013-05-30T05:20:16.026-07:00A Trail Race Sweepstakes = A FREE RACE ENTRY!You all have been so patient and wonderful with me this past year as I go through my ups and downs with blogging and I am so happy to be back at it. Thus when Eddie, organizer of great <a href="http://cambridge5k.com/">Cambridge 5k</a> race series, gave me the opportunity to hold a Sweepstakes for a free race entry for the Vert-Sasquatch portion of the series, I jumped at the chance!<br />
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Just as a way of background if you are not familiar with the Cambridge 5k Series going on this year. <a href="http://cambridge5k.com/">CHECK IT OUT! </a> There are 5 races, the first one took place this past Sunday. But there are four left, two trail races and two more road races and apparently you can be on teams! Honestly, check this out and if you are one of my close dear friends in the neighborhood, you know that I am already formulating our Jewish team for the December 1 race - you know who you are! And as per my NJ and other friends not located in MA - get your butts up here and race!<br />
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<u><b>The Race Schedule</b></u></div>
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Race #2 is the SASQUATCH race on July 14th</div>
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Race #3 is the BIG BAD WOLF, on September 21</div>
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Race #4 is the OKTOBERFEST on October 6</div>
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Race #5 is the YULEFEST on December 1</div>
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Eddie has been gracious enough to offer Aaron and I chance to run the last of the 5 races, The YuleRace. I think Aaron would rather dress up as Chanukah Harry rather than Santa though...<br />
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Ok back to the race entry at hand. Now personally, I have never done a trail race, but this one looks just amazing!!!!! It is located at the DCR Middlesex Fells on July 14th at 10 a.m. Now, if you have never been there, then this is reason enough to want to try this race out. The Fells is amazing and very close to the Stone Zoo, which happens to be the location for the post race party! Just a note race entries are filling up fast so if you do not want to wait - register<a href="https://www.racemenu.com/events/17831-2nd-Annual-VERT-SASQUATCH"> here</a><br />
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<b><i>note it is the 14th I promise</i></b></div>
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So here is what is getting me about this race...it just looks so darn enticing<br />
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(1) It is great for a beginner trail runner as it is only 2.35 miles.<br />
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(2) At the same time, an experienced trail runner may love to do this for fun or to help another newbie!<br />
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(3) You can take the Orange Line directly to the race (they offer a shuttle bus at Oask Grove before & after the race).<br />
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(4) The post race party is going to be amazing and sponsored by Notch Brewing, Slumbrew, & Pretty Things.<br />
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I am not one for trails in all honestly, but this one may just convince me otherwise. At first, I was like "I would never do a trail race," but as I look at this race more and see the pictures I am more and more enticed by this race. Also, my coach OK'd it, so now what excuse do I have. <br />
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<b><i>These people look happy. They don't even look tired. I am in.</i></b></div>
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The lucky winner will receive 1 free race entry and a cool VERT hat. Two others will receive VERT Hats. Hey why not...can always use a hat.</div>
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So how do you win? Here is the lawyer in me, if you remember, it is not hard to win my sweepstakes, you just can simply enter your name in the comment sections for a chance to win. However, feel free to spread the word, it won't help you to win or lose but will let other people know about this cool race and the series in general..</div>
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Here is all the fun Terms and Conditions</div>
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<b>OFFICIAL RULES</b></div>
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<b> TERMS AND CONDITIONS - FOR A FREE RACE ENTRY TO SASQUATCH RACE AND/OR A VERT HAT</b></div>
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<b><i>Basics: </i></b>To enter the sweepstakes for a free entry and/or vert hat Band <b>please just leave a comment on this post, meaning the post that announced the sweepstake.</b> The comment does not have to be anything in particular. It will be used so that your name can be entered into the sweepstakes as facilitated by Random.Org. There is NO PURCHASE NECESSARY or any other type of consideration that must be given to enter this sweepstakes. By entering a comment, you are entering in the sweepstakes and are thus agreeing to the full terms and conditions outlined here.</div>
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<b><i>Contact information/Privacy Policy: </i></b>When entering the sweepstakes, please provide a means for the writer of this blog to contact you when the sweepstakes has ended. You may choose to leave your blog address, twitter handle, email address, or any other means that you are comfortable with and provides a reasonable way for the writer of this blog to contact you. If you do not want, your contact information put in the comment field, you may e-mail the writer of this blog at 26.2runforfun@gmail.com. Your contact information will be used so that the writer of this blog may contact you if you win or if the retailer sponsoring the sweepstakes needs to contact you if you win. Your information may also be used so that the writer of this blog can converse with you, even if you are not the winner. Your name (meaning whatever name you leave - whether twitter, blog, or real name) will be announced on this blog if you do win. Your name will also be announced on Twitter. After the contest, either the writer of this blog or the sponsor of the sweepstakes will use your name and contact information to contact you if you win and send you your prize. By entering this sweepstakes, you give the writer of this blog, the right to contact you or have the sponsor contact you as well as post your name on the writer's blog to announce the winner as well as announce your name on Twitter. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Eligibility Requirements</i>: To enter this sweepstake you must be <b>over 18 years of age and a United States citizen</b>. Other restrictions apply. <b>You can enter by simply leaving a comment on this blog, NO PURCHASE or other consideration is neceessary. </b> You cannot enter by any other means. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Duration and deadlines</i>: This sweepstakes starts on Wednesday May 29, 2013 at 8 p.m. and will go to Wednesday June 5, 2013 at 8:00 p.m. Winner will be announced by Monday June 3, 2013 at 8 p.m. and will be announced through this blog - Runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com. A winner has one week from the announcement of the winner to claim the prize or else a new winner will be chosen Monday June 10, 2013 after 8 p.m.) . All prizes will be awarded. Thus if the winner does not come forward, a new winner will be chosen.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Prize Description:</i> There will be three winners. One winner with receive a free race entry and a VERT Hat. The other two will receive a VERT hat. The race fee is valued at $38.00 </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Odds of Winning:</i> The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. The winner(s) will be chosen using Random.org. The writer of this blog will count up the names that have been submitted and plug the information into the Random generator on Random.org to select a winner. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Disputes or mistakes</i>: Writer of this blog will not be held liable for any technical failures or typographical errors. If the winner does not claim his or her prize within one week of the winner announcement, a new winner will be chosen. If there is a dispute between two or more participants on who won the sweepstakes, a new winner will be chosen. If the site goes down, and comments/entries are lost, participants will have to resubmit their entry. The writer of this blog will make an announcement on her blog and extend the sweepstakes for one week starting from the time that the comment section is back in working order. At any time, if the comment section is not working, the writer of this blog shall not be held liable. When she becomes aware of this (although it is not her responsibility to become aware of it), she will extend the period of the sweepstakes to ensure that all entrants are given one week total time to enter the sweepstakes. Thus if the comment section is down for one week, one week will be added to the sweepstake. If it is down for one day, one day will be added to the sweepstake. This only applies if the writer of this blog is aware of this issue.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Sponsor Information:</i> Eddie, organizer of the race, can be contacted through twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/Cambridge5K">here</a></span></div>
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<b><i>Disclaimer: </i></b>This sweepstakes is being held in the United States and is open to United States citizens, making it under federal and all 50 U.S. states law and jurisdiction. The sweepstakes is VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW. The writer of this blog is not liable or responsible for any lost or broken items and is held harmless. She is also not liable or responsible for any injuries or problems that occur from using the item won in this sweepstake. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Time of delivery:</i> Once a winner is chosen and contacted, the writer of this blog will work to get the winner his or her prize either by shipping the item or having the sponsor ship the item to the winner or by any other means reasonable. There is no time requirement by which the item must be shipped. The writer of this blog will work with the winner and the sponsor and will ship the item (or deliver by any other means reasonable), but again no time limited is required. The writer of this blog is not responsible for items lost or damaged while in shipping or delivery or before or after shipping or delivery. If the item needs to be returned/exchange or if there is a problem or issue with the item, the winner should contact the sponsor directly.<br />
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-41240007699858197852013-05-28T04:26:00.001-07:002013-05-28T04:26:56.323-07:00My Second ChildNo, no NO I am not pregnant; I do not mean that as a second child. Rather, I mean Wubby (a.k.a "Wubs," "Wub-a-Dubs," "Wubinator") you all remember him right...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3Cwe1vayDcNMzDQYX4WvgvGVdYz38g4hkRwHjxe8_lQjft8Wd6MVKm3QLdjfe-Z-ye3yO3bkoTXJ34tFvryYby_11UHb6e8lkxQBF6G1qIiW-3XXpvd0lpLZoZDJlNepK8wpGx9DSdsK/s1600/DSC_0147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3Cwe1vayDcNMzDQYX4WvgvGVdYz38g4hkRwHjxe8_lQjft8Wd6MVKm3QLdjfe-Z-ye3yO3bkoTXJ34tFvryYby_11UHb6e8lkxQBF6G1qIiW-3XXpvd0lpLZoZDJlNepK8wpGx9DSdsK/s320/DSC_0147.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Wubby - April 2012 </i></b></div>
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<b><i>Wubby - May 2013</i></b></div>
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When Wubby first appeared in our lives, I was ecstatic to have him. I could not wait. But, honestly, within a few weeks, Wubby and I had developed a love/hate relationship of sorts. I was pregnant and sick and it was A LOT of work for me to even try to take care of him - even though Aaron did mostly everything. I kept telling myself that I could never be a mom if I could not take care of a dog. I also convinced myself that dogs must be harder than children - ha ha ha.</div>
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<b><i>Wubby had a love for towels & blankets especially eating them</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Yup Wubby had taken my bath mat</i></b></div>
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Wubby also realized our relationship was strained. He often saw me deep in an emotional meltdown - oh pregnancy (sure I am going to blame that on pregnancy, nothing to do with my personality, nope nothing). He did not listen to me. He did not see me as superior. And he seemed to poop everywhere, I mean <i>everywhere.</i> And chew up <i>everything.</i></div>
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I did love Wubby, do not get me wrong, but I did not feel that connection with Wubby as deeply as others might with their dogs. I just didn't. Writing that now even makes me want to cry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWl6OAxF8aRD5uB_WQJeeL33ImzQBhyI9WRO7Aal469euXVPHvsLeoyj4mgVeaODhSRErHsxvseiQvRViE_fsFOtNGEJoePdE4ujIE3xLoYj_pUpsJk8-BHQox_lvMMDTQY6Ag-G5M6dof/s1600/IMG_1251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWl6OAxF8aRD5uB_WQJeeL33ImzQBhyI9WRO7Aal469euXVPHvsLeoyj4mgVeaODhSRErHsxvseiQvRViE_fsFOtNGEJoePdE4ujIE3xLoYj_pUpsJk8-BHQox_lvMMDTQY6Ag-G5M6dof/s320/IMG_1251.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Still wanting to develop that special relationship with the Wubs</i></b></div>
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Then Lee was born. My greatest fear with Wubby through all of this was whether Wubby would be good with Lee. We had trainers, took classes, worked hard. Unfortunately, Wubby became pretty anxious - considering I had postpartum anxiety I cannot blame him. He was never ever bad with Lee, actually he was very good with Lee and continues to be a wonderful brother. But he was anxious and not the best listener when it came to listening to me. We had a behaviorist come and help us. She told us that we may have to think about "rehoming" Wubby if we could not get him "under control." </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv3dyWeGiODsu2N52fif4G7Qwicws1wgJWjO8ZSVB7-VD616ZRVNBAdz7P3oXucY9URWVVuADvgst9-xiU4lqvp9v-tS1BZ4tCZbwTCUdTqYdDcsbzGKzDtuf5LFAGgdBC7AWdKpx058_p/s1600/IMG_1236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv3dyWeGiODsu2N52fif4G7Qwicws1wgJWjO8ZSVB7-VD616ZRVNBAdz7P3oXucY9URWVVuADvgst9-xiU4lqvp9v-tS1BZ4tCZbwTCUdTqYdDcsbzGKzDtuf5LFAGgdBC7AWdKpx058_p/s320/IMG_1236.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Wubby's first look at the Pack-n-Play pre-Lee. Yes, there is a baby doll in the crib to get Wubby used to it</i></b></div>
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After hearing that, something clicked. I could not stand the thought of Wubby leaving us. Wubby was my child and I loved him more than I could ever imagine. He was a part of our family. It was just <i>not </i> an option. However, if it meant danger to Lee or others, we would have found Wubby another home. I know other parents who have had to make that tough decision and my heart goes out to them. They made a difficult but right choice, which is only to be admired.</div>
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Anyway, the behaviorist taught us how to help Wubby and I made it my goal. I worked with Wubby every single day to teach him that I was his Mommy and he needed to listen to me. We worked to ensure that Wubby's anxiety lessened and that he would be a safe puppy for everyone. It was hard work, but it helped Wubby so much and the anxiety dissipated and he began to see me as his mother. He learned to stay, come, sit, lie down, leave it, take it, move back, walk with me etc. I am not saying its perfect, Wubby still has his adventures - he may have had a joy run around the neighborhood yesterday and we had to go around chasing him, scaring his Mommy a lot. He also listens to his commands, except if we are at the dog park and want him to come in which case it is very hard to get him to stop playing - we are working hard on that one. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7Vs2Iz5G6ZFmdAJ73KbVayUtq9ihsV_03ncDL8IGSUC9qPI91xMuZsnl_r46bmy6KOpr8wt9tp7QEqz8sxKc0npEUVMUGP2tS4E2gC-p200MyX4VtD1oAMkT66C7Blf-0nhDAaELd51x/s1600/IMG_2402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7Vs2Iz5G6ZFmdAJ73KbVayUtq9ihsV_03ncDL8IGSUC9qPI91xMuZsnl_r46bmy6KOpr8wt9tp7QEqz8sxKc0npEUVMUGP2tS4E2gC-p200MyX4VtD1oAMkT66C7Blf-0nhDAaELd51x/s320/IMG_2402.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>My boys</i></b></div>
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Today, Wubby and I have changed our relationship. I know he is safe around Lee and others (although we keep a close eye, as one should around any animal). My love for Wubby is overwhelming. He <i>is</i> my child. I am overwhelmingly happy when we take Wubby to the park or when we come to NJ where he can run free in a gated backyard. I always want Wubby included in all our outings (although Aaron has to give me a reality check on this sometimes and my friends probably want to kill me, I owe them a lot - I AM SORRY!). When I am sad, Wubby and I cuddle and he makes me feel better and I can spend hours petting him and cuddling. One of my favorite Wubby times is after Lee is in bed. Aaron and I are sitting on the bed and Wubby is chewing his bone on the floor. I count 1...2....3...and we both slowly get up, corner Wubby and give him a huge snuggle and play with him, giving him special Wubby time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gxYyTBuES01mH-Mr8WVxvG4LuxxOYACYeMa-C7hlL4wZDmyETb73n8dzCNcHS3-YMWwy9Qvdwgjx3vUFXPlx_ywYXd6afWYV6Z1CnSifFL9_lDYmNnSfzxli5ZvWFVMxFkbq2SHu9Vs2/s1600/IMG_0457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4gxYyTBuES01mH-Mr8WVxvG4LuxxOYACYeMa-C7hlL4wZDmyETb73n8dzCNcHS3-YMWwy9Qvdwgjx3vUFXPlx_ywYXd6afWYV6Z1CnSifFL9_lDYmNnSfzxli5ZvWFVMxFkbq2SHu9Vs2/s320/IMG_0457.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Can you tell what this is? Wubby and I sleeping and cuddling...</i></b></div>
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I never really got it before, but now I get it. So even when I end up spending 20 minutes cleaning my running shoes because I stepped in his you know what...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb0X7xk5VrIuy-YazatvDKiX-62WCntB-k4PxkOcvprbUKzE5dggEsaiuB7MbvzekK_QOaIZ4Eto-wRap4tM2mbxNux0iiW_hfwnJ9Baz4qORcinqoN8Y-dQ5ZAWWpE3BrFdiikd6-2bZ/s1600/IMG_0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb0X7xk5VrIuy-YazatvDKiX-62WCntB-k4PxkOcvprbUKzE5dggEsaiuB7MbvzekK_QOaIZ4Eto-wRap4tM2mbxNux0iiW_hfwnJ9Baz4qORcinqoN8Y-dQ5ZAWWpE3BrFdiikd6-2bZ/s320/IMG_0482.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Not my best picture</i></b></div>
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Wubby is still my child, he is part of my family and we all love him so much...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-InhMNEVu7hFX2OeWVep3uOW56fqW7N-m1q78ac0yD9j4qUzmgJp2_ZxeM9ke7G7uYmeqFoLSJM_T6n4udoJfaHBffFARl6q11sGuRzyGYXbkVkJvj1EVhHjEH7yMGNconwANhjV5XYr6/s1600/DSC_0808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-InhMNEVu7hFX2OeWVep3uOW56fqW7N-m1q78ac0yD9j4qUzmgJp2_ZxeM9ke7G7uYmeqFoLSJM_T6n4udoJfaHBffFARl6q11sGuRzyGYXbkVkJvj1EVhHjEH7yMGNconwANhjV5XYr6/s320/DSC_0808.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>17 months</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Do you have a special relationship with your pet? Are they part of your family?</i></b></div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-85143285310464916312013-05-26T05:09:00.001-07:002013-05-26T05:09:53.652-07:00How far would you go to finish a run?As recent events have shown, do not mess with runners, we are a breed onto ourselves. We do anything and everything for running. That is not to say we do not care about anything else but we take our running <i>seriously!</i> I completely acknowledge that there are runners who are a lot more relaxed about their running and won't empathize with this post. Even I stopped running at multiple points in my career for things bigger and better. However, for many of the runners reading this, I know most of the time come hell or high water we <i>are</i> running.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDcIQqikrAnr9Fv4VmVDQpQdLlN0dBh_U_KsoEa188qyAuET2gb82hEKGFL-6gEa0ONsq9S2D4bcESDA6zsox3dPVnohtf59sjk3pEA8K4pOET5MZ3HHpiMO7THyQQM7FDItn5UCIv7je/s1600/DSC_0110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDcIQqikrAnr9Fv4VmVDQpQdLlN0dBh_U_KsoEa188qyAuET2gb82hEKGFL-6gEa0ONsq9S2D4bcESDA6zsox3dPVnohtf59sjk3pEA8K4pOET5MZ3HHpiMO7THyQQM7FDItn5UCIv7je/s320/DSC_0110.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
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<b><i>No biggie just a 5k the day before I gave birth</i></b></div>
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Throughout my running career, I have done WHATEVER it takes to get my run in and/or finish a race. Sometimes, I admit my decisions were not the smartest and have resulted in injuries (hopefully I have learned my less). But most of the time whether it is snowing, hot as hell, or I am just feeling awful - I am going to put that aside in the name of running.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZNfZMvDIxbueJVJP7y9Lr9IbrRAmksU4OUENQecSquyt4mNSLt4-BEByoKd3rAC9MM0mj2Q_5tkhKCxW92Ar36jQelrJA4rDhBkdMY2BSsgQmigKjADxv7C7idaEHiaewEj8RaC4ndzw/s1600/DSC_0777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZNfZMvDIxbueJVJP7y9Lr9IbrRAmksU4OUENQecSquyt4mNSLt4-BEByoKd3rAC9MM0mj2Q_5tkhKCxW92Ar36jQelrJA4rDhBkdMY2BSsgQmigKjADxv7C7idaEHiaewEj8RaC4ndzw/s320/DSC_0777.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>So I spent two hours in the medic tent post a very hot 20 miler - worth it</i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8LdNn0nnP3nWAUsp5YEHcuJCxKMlai7bxLUmKWBLJSmn3LNsHdAFJPjb7Y4Z7nfTUvxIZrhOXgLaqYMjjqEioEeilFCJc6Jtwj4-9_w0PDL8QcitvFei_K4l9JuaH8YmHaIPwBlVM5GF/s1600/DSC_0919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8LdNn0nnP3nWAUsp5YEHcuJCxKMlai7bxLUmKWBLJSmn3LNsHdAFJPjb7Y4Z7nfTUvxIZrhOXgLaqYMjjqEioEeilFCJc6Jtwj4-9_w0PDL8QcitvFei_K4l9JuaH8YmHaIPwBlVM5GF/s320/DSC_0919.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Please, I am clearly having fun</i></b></div>
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Ok now that some of you are nodding in agreement and some of your are shaking your head like I am crazy lets talk about yesterday's run. Rewinding to Friday night, I was super scared for my run. I have been dealing with temperamental knees of late - an old runner's knee injury essentially - and had my knee taped by my PT. I may have called him twice on Friday getting the double, triple O.K. to run 10 miles Saturday morning. Then there was the fact that it was cold and windy on Saturday and I had not packed for such weather. But when I woke Saturday morning, all that melted away as I geared up for a wet, cold run. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m5TRtD1QAsiDdIjgXvgzgFiX3tpEhQaMz891rxTSRGw4poD3sokotpmfw0LwSB68GZqeRPiB3NxRTOMyFzSUdT35Or1E57tzF1LjJORlmGEyYdTI8Y5ELGLbmb0Gcwk0G_Bfv5MNOGTa/s1600/DSC_0789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m5TRtD1QAsiDdIjgXvgzgFiX3tpEhQaMz891rxTSRGw4poD3sokotpmfw0LwSB68GZqeRPiB3NxRTOMyFzSUdT35Or1E57tzF1LjJORlmGEyYdTI8Y5ELGLbmb0Gcwk0G_Bfv5MNOGTa/s320/DSC_0789.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Because when it is time to run you get excited</i></b></div>
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So now what is really so hardcore about running in the cold rain? Not much I guess. Maybe even stupid because of my knee (I promise I got the O.K.), but then Mile 5 came around on Saturday. At Mile 5, it was time to take a ShotBlok. No biggie I thought and took a walking break to eat and drink. Yea....and then all of a sudden I felt something crunchy, and we all know Shotbloks are <u>not</u> crunchy in the least, just chewy. And before you knew it, out popped my crown on my tooth. TMI? The crown has been there for years, through many ShotBloks, but today out it came. I could have stopped and gone home, but what good would that have done. So I put the crown in my iFitness belt (you never know what it will be good for) and I finished those last 5 miles - clearly, what else would you do....</div>
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Some people may think runners are crazy. I just think we are a special breed. There is something so amazing about digging deep and getting through a run; having a goal and reaching it no matter what. Are we crazy? I don't thing so. It is therapeutic? Hell yea. Will we stop? Nope. Granted, when you have to, when you may be injured or hurt, when family comes first, you stop, you do what you have to do. But in most cases, runners keep going, they preserve, what else is there really to do!</div>
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<b><i>What are some crazy times when you have pushed through a run and gone above and beyond? How far would you go to finish a run?</i></b></div>
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-85233743862269506452013-05-22T18:31:00.000-07:002013-05-22T18:31:01.203-07:00Ode to Baby Lee - 6 months<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Happy 6 months to my beautiful baby boy! Be gentle folks, I am not so good at this...</span></div>
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Oh Baby Lee</div>
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How can it be;</div>
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Six months ago</div>
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There was lots of snow;</div>
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Then out you popped</div>
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And the fun just has not stopped.</div>
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<b><i>Born November 23, 2012</i></b></div>
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Oh Baby Lee</div>
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You caused us such glee;</div>
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We named you after our mothers </div>
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And you became Wubby's younger brother;</div>
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You grew so fast</div>
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and Thank Goodness went go to sleep at last.</div>
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Oh Baby Lee</div>
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Who are you to me;</div>
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The baby who once had lots of tears</div>
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And caused his mommy lots of fears;</div>
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You became my smily boy</div>
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Who loves all his toys.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGgZiOgEqVVmRuScV2ktMAcJbSat99L3M5TI5F5SRrGJZHGiEUZ7TfB0yn4_BtUBgIOZIz-mCElDh501aCtK8GTLmQ2yLSBXsIZsjvHezr2f71lbUCTCntWRgn-FdFpskg6Wqbhp73_aq/s1600/IMG_2144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGgZiOgEqVVmRuScV2ktMAcJbSat99L3M5TI5F5SRrGJZHGiEUZ7TfB0yn4_BtUBgIOZIz-mCElDh501aCtK8GTLmQ2yLSBXsIZsjvHezr2f71lbUCTCntWRgn-FdFpskg6Wqbhp73_aq/s320/IMG_2144.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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Oh Baby Lee </div>
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You are our little beluga who lives in the sea;</div>
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Ok, maybe not since at first, you did not like the bath</div>
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But now you go swimming and have found another path;</div>
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You love dancing, singing, jumping and clapping;</div>
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And you would rather all that instead of napping.</div>
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Oh Baby Lee</div>
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You love to make friends, oh gee;</div>
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Near and far</div>
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where ever you are;</div>
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the friends appear</div>
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have no fear.</div>
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Oh Baby<br />
You are everything to me;<br />
Oh Baby Lee<br />
How I love thee.<br />
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<b><i>Stats:</i></b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </i>find out tomorrow<br />
<b><i>Height: </i></b>find out tomorrow<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Foods:</i> Peas (yuck); Oatmeal (yum); rice cereal (yum); sweet potato (yuck); banana (MESSY!)<br />
<b><i>Sleeping:</i> </b>You are an amazing sleeper<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Likes:</i> Jumping, Dancing, Music, Ipod Headphones, Wubby kisses<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dislikes:</i> You seem to love everything!<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Firsts:</i> You can roll over back to front; you are eating solids; you went to a Red Sox game; you went to the Science Museum; you were in a duckie parade; you played in the snow; you ride in the B.O.B<br />
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-17206641876510418972013-05-19T14:27:00.000-07:002013-05-19T14:27:18.804-07:00The Run-Blogger ConnectionIf you have ever met me for even a few minutes or read my blog, you know that without a doubt I love <i>love</i> to run with friends. Not only is it so much more fun to run with others, but it also gives me the strength and motivation I need to run my best. I have been really lucky for the past few years running with bloggers along the way that I have "met" as well as my family! But some running partners, you know who <a href="http://westfordmommy.blogspot.com/">yo</a>u are, hold a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, of late running has been a solo activity for me, which is really really lame.<div>
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<b><i>How else would you run but with friends and sparkles.</i></b></div>
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Luckily, this weekend I had a chance to run with another blogger. I don't know there must be something about bloggers but running with them always makes the run ideal. Just as backdrop - last week I ran alone - 10 miles it took 1:36:00. My half took 2:02 two weeks ago. They were O.K. runs but not as good as I wanted.</div>
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This week, I ran with support, with a friend, I ran 12 miles in 1:48:59. What happened? Clearly, running with a friend, a fellow blogger and runner makes a big BIG difference.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Swnv9dFpBjuA2Wph7yIF5V8uqf1IaWhOTb3jmivgqbrbn-1S2yvEdo2ZstDdYlMNfKzV3AXrr05hcjBzJnVvP0Y_1Z9iO0KFyRkkH6B3lQXcZ8sjfbdThO-ESR8moSsAyoGYUZNcscp7/s1600/IMG_2429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Swnv9dFpBjuA2Wph7yIF5V8uqf1IaWhOTb3jmivgqbrbn-1S2yvEdo2ZstDdYlMNfKzV3AXrr05hcjBzJnVvP0Y_1Z9iO0KFyRkkH6B3lQXcZ8sjfbdThO-ESR8moSsAyoGYUZNcscp7/s320/IMG_2429.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><i><a href="http://www.weightoffmyshoulders.com/">Dani</a> & I post run</i></b></div>
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Dani and I have technically crossed paths twice and have checked out each other's blogs but other than that we had never really talked, but we quickly agreed to spend 12 miles without a flinch of an eye. It could have been awkward, it could have been silent, she could have not liked to chat, while I like to chat away. But I was never worried about that, I knew she was a runner, a blogger, and would be an instant friend! <i> (Dani is right now un-following me on Twitter - I tried to explain to her I am a blog stalker but I don't think she realized how bad it really is).</i> The only worry I had was her speed and keeping her from going as fast as she wanted - she is super fast and amazing. </div>
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From the start, this run was amazing. We met and off we went chatting away talking about anything and everything like old friends from races to jobs to life we moved along with ease. And as I looked down at my pace I was increasingly excited, not only was I making a new friend and hopefully running buddy, but I was seriously increasing my pace from last week!</div>
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<i>8:57, 8:41, 8:56, 8:54, 8:59, 9:35, 9:04, 9:13</i></div>
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<b><i>Get excited Wubby - Dani told me about a dog beach!!!</i></b></div>
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Then the last few miles hit. It was hard stuff. This run was pushing it for me. If I was alone, I probably would have given up, but running with another I pushed myself. I told Dani to keep talking and she did, she encouraged me, as wonderful runners do, and soon enough we had finished.</div>
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<i>9:06, 9:14, 9:14, 9:01.... </i></div>
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I have not been a consistent blogger in the past year. Of late, I have felt the need to get back into blogging, and this run only reaffirms this. The friends and running partners I have made through blogging are friends of a life time, people I could not live without.</div>
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Thank you Dani for helping me have such a great run (and again hopefully I totally did not creep you out with this post hehe).</div>
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<b><i>Do you have that special run/blogger connection?</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-9693309765432397452013-05-15T05:29:00.003-07:002013-05-15T05:29:45.184-07:00The Truth About Postpartum - Postpartum AnxietyI have thought a whole lot about whether to share this post with others. At first, I felt ashamed. I did not want people to know, especially people that already know me "in real life." Yet as time went by it seems I have already told about everyone (and it was not hard to see anyway) so I believe it is about that time to write about it. Why? Maybe because writing is therapeutic to me and maybe to let other mommies out there know that there is nothing to feel ashamed about, that there are others out there too, and that sometimes it is not all puppies and rainbows.<br />
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I also feel the obligatory need to say the line here about how much I love Baby Lee. He is a joy. He is my genius baby and I would not change having him for the world. However, now that I have given the obligatory caveat that all mothers feel they must say to others (who are not their close friends) before adding in the words "but"....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3wSWIt5zK3ZXJRG02xvw06fIkXD828lrea0jpL6YsFhXTZ3FS35VQlLxqo0UUEF9AY1CRDS05sUjbvFCmppUhFEz45e_wC_tCcZGF36nMAbc_8YBpirQHYfKV-M_flDOAYkMeMr5qoLd/s1600/DSC_0899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3wSWIt5zK3ZXJRG02xvw06fIkXD828lrea0jpL6YsFhXTZ3FS35VQlLxqo0UUEF9AY1CRDS05sUjbvFCmppUhFEz45e_wC_tCcZGF36nMAbc_8YBpirQHYfKV-M_flDOAYkMeMr5qoLd/s320/DSC_0899.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>How can you not love this face!</i></b></div>
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Before Lee was born, I knew a little bit about postpartum anxiety and depression. Not much but once I saw a webpage on it and sent the link to Aaron saying we should watch for this and that was that. No one really talked to me about it not my friends and not my doctors. After Lee was born, I was on an adrenaline high. Take running a marathon or any other race and multiple it by 1,000 and that's how I felt post giving birth naturally. I could not take my eyes off the little man. I just wanted to stare at him all the time.<br />
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<b><i>Post Baby Bliss - nothing like it</i></b></div>
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But soon enough, we were at home and reality had set in - I was not sleeping (do new moms and dads ever really sleep?), I was, in my mind, having trouble breastfeeding, and Lee was crying 24/7. For five weeks, he would not sleep during the day and would get small amounts of sleep at night. When he was awake, he was inconsolable most of the time. It was a nightmare. There was no quiet, there no rest, there was just constant fear, anxiety, and crying from all household members (ok just Lee and I). It turns out, in the end, Lee has a dairy protein allergy meaning he was allergic to the dairy he was receiving via my breastmilk (i.e., what you eat gets in your milk and is transferred to your baby) and also he has reflux. Fun times! This was not fully discovered until 4 weeks but it caused the non-stop tears.<br />
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<b><i>No mommy, I want to be a vegan baby! If only babies could use their words</i></b></div>
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During the first two weeks of Lee's life, I was not doing very well. I kept stating how overwhelmed I was and crying all the time. It was not until my lactation consultant mentioned something that we realized that this may not be normal. I had an emergency session with a therapist that night and Aaron, the therapist, and I decided that we would not take the medication route just yet but intended to deal with it through healthy coping mechanisms.<br />
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Long story, short. That was not enough for me. I had full on postpartum anxiety. For me, this meant I could not handle all different kinds situations. If I had to make a decision, it took an hour, at least, discussing the options with Aaron over and over again, no matter how insignificant. I would get stuck on an issue and could not let it go until it was resolved. I would have to hand Lee to Aaron at points and go do things for myself because I was so very anxious. And of course the lack of sleep did not help.<br />
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<b><i>How can you have postpartum when they are this cute?!?</i></b></div>
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By Week 4, Lee was diagnosed and the doctor told me that I would just stop eating all forms of dairy until Lee was one young and keep on breastfeeding. I was SO MAD. I may have cried in the doctor's office and said like a 5 year old that <i>"Lee would be getting formula."</i> I calmed down and then drove straight from the appointment to <a href="http://westfordmommy.blogspot.com/">Robin'</a>s house where she helped me reason this whole thing out, as good running partners do.<br />
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The next week was considerable hell as my anxiety got worse. I tried to go off all forms of dairy and continue breastfeeding Lee. Even though my breastfeeding experience had not been in anyway joyful, I just could not imagine the idea of giving up that task. Ultimately, at the end of the week my midwife prescribed me anti-axiety medication which would require me to stop breastfeeding. Her telling me I had to stop was all I needed to stop breastfeeding and start using hypoallergenic formula. Stopping breastfeeding was the best decision for us - more on this on another post.<br />
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<b><i>Turns out Lee really really likes formula</i></b></div>
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Unfortunately, she prescribed too large of a dose. It caused me to have panic attacks. I woke up twice in the middle of the night crying, gasping for air, and with a racing heart. I knew this was not normal. Then for three days I had this type of out of body type disassociation where I could talk to you and converse with you but did not feel truly there. It was awful and scary.<br />
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As an aside, I am in a book club and recently we read the book "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Unfinished-Work-Elizabeth-D/dp/0307887804">The Unfinished Works of Elizabeth D</a>." by Nicole Bernier. This is worth a read by the way. At one point in the book, the main character is in a highly superficial mommies' group and she tries to keep up and act like all things are perfect when things are not; they are hard; babies are hard! I do not know what I would have done if I was in such a group.<br />
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Unlike most of the mommies in this fictional book my group of friends, all of which who have had babies in the last few years or months, or even those who have not came to my rescue. They brought food over and sat with me and told me stories of their postpartum depression and anxiety. That is was pretty normal to feel like heading for the hills; to just want to cry; to feel overwhelmed. These mothers were mothers I looked up to and adored. I saw them as the "perfect" moms, knowing that they had struggled gave me hope. Others who did not have babies were just as supportive. They were all amazing. One friend in particular was my life line. She told me about her experiences and recommended an amazing doctor. She let our family come over each week and sat and talked with me and helped me with Lee - I think her husband had enough of me by week 8. Another friend spent the entire night when I was alone without Aaron. Others were always willing to chat....<br />
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I saw the psychiatrist who believed that my initial prescription was way too high and caused the disassociation and panic attacks. We then worked for another 3 to 4 weeks to get the dosage right. It took from December 28th to February 24th to finally get the medicine right and for it to "kick in" so to speak. Anti-anxiety meds take 6-8 weeks to work!!! That is not very helpful when you need it <i>now. </i>There are immediate short attacking drugs for panic attacks and the like but generally 6-8 weeks to make the long term stuff work...so yea that was fun. For that time, I continued therapy, I took the medicine and things began to start working again. About the time of our trip to Florida for one of my best friend's wedding, I finally began to feel like me again. Previous to that though, I was always, never myself. <br />
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<b><i>These shirts were never so true haha </i></b></div>
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I could take care of Lee and Aaron was super super supportive and helpful. However, I could not truly enjoy all experiences with the anxiety hanging over my head. The other part of it was sleep. My doctors believed it was essential for me to have a full night's sleep. Once I stopped breastfeeding, Lee and Aaron were super helpful to that end - Lee got better sleeping and Aaron took anything that had to do with nights. I felt super guilty but realized it was the only true way for me to recover. Yet, even with that help, I woke up every two hours and could not sleep - it would take hours to get back to sleep. It is only recently that I have finally started to get full nights sleep. I know I know I have a 5 and half month old baby, I should not expect sleep. However, for me and my family, sleep was essential and had to occur.<br />
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Today, I feel a lot more like me! I am overall very happy and less anxious even with A TON of stressors going on in my life. I am able to let things go. I do not obsess over every little thing Lee does or every decision that has to be made. I do not turn to Aaron and ask the same question over and over again. I think clearly and enjoy life and my baby. Aaron tells me to be proud of myself and I am. I am proud that I accepted what was hard to accept, talked to people, and took action. Proud because I know getting help is important to my family's stability and overall happiness.<br />
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<b><i>Happiness!!!!</i></b></div>
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People do not tell you the truth. They do not tell you about how hard postpartum is! When I was diagnosed, my midwife said that it happens to so many people and that they don't tell people because they do not want to scare them. Ummmm..... yea. Maybe for some it is not hard. But for me, in the beginning it was very <i>very hard</i>. I wanted to post about it to tell all you the truth. To tell you my story and to help you cope if you need to or be ready if you need. And to get help, to talk to someone, anyone. I am always happy to answer questions and be supportive too. And if not, it is just another blog post....<br />
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<b><i>Did you suffer from postpartum troubles? What are some truths about postpostpartum no one told you about?</i></b>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-15995946614264326692013-05-12T16:57:00.001-07:002013-05-12T16:57:30.747-07:00A Mother's Day Run & FunThis weekend was a blast! I hope everyone had a great Mother's Day weekend. I want to be sensitive about this post because not everyone has a mother, not everyone is a mother, some people want to be a mother but can't and some people don't want to be a mother. Having fallen into the category of not having a living mom and now being a mom (but also having had trouble becoming a mom), this was a very emotional day for me. I was excited and happy to celebrate my very first mother's day as a mom, but also there were surprisingly some tears that sneaked up on me - I was very sad I was away from my hometown where my family was and felt excluded and a bit alone when everyone else was going to their families. I miss my moms (I consider both my mom and my mother-in-law mothers). I also feel for those who are struggling in many different respects on a day like this. I just felt the need to acknowledge this before going further. To say, that I get it too. Life is not always fair, but we do the best we can.<div>
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And we have a lot to be thankful for......</div>
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<b><i>Doesn't get much better than this</i></b></div>
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<b><i>My wonderful boys</i></b></div>
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This morning, I started my Mother's Day with what else, a 10 mile run. I was extremely nervous about this run as my knees have been acting up since Thursday. Friday and Saturday they felt awful. I was pretty much expecting this run not to happen. But I took it easy on Saturday and Sunday I woke up and things seemed to be O.K. so after consulting with Aaron and <a href="http://westfordmommy.blogspot.com/">Robin</a> I decided to go for it - granted Aaron was asleep and maybe so was Robin....Right now, tonight, they still feel O.K. but heading to the coach/P.T. tomorrow.</div>
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I could not ask for much more out of this run. Sure it was nowhere near as fast as I used to be, but I had a hard tiring week, just ran a half, and oh yea there is that whole new mom thing, so I am trying to be gentle with myself. My knees behaved and I had some nice negative splits with the first mile coming in around 9:40 and the last mile around 8:55 = 1:34:00. Bigger and better things about this run - it rained and that was sooo refreshing. Also, for the first time ever I ran with a water belt and it actually worked!! More on this another day...</div>
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<b><i>Thank you<a href="http://www.ifitnessinc.com/"> ifitness</a> - finally a belt that worked!!!</i></b></div>
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The better part of Mother's Day came after this run. After all, shockingly, life does not revolve around running, sorry folks. Today, for Mother's Day, we went into Boston for the "<span id="goog_2104130380"></span><a href="http://www.bostoncentral.com/events/parade/p15263.php">Duckling Day Parad<span id="goog_2104130381"></span>e</a>." This by far the cutest thing ever. It occurs at Boston Commons and replicates the childhood book of <i>Make Way for Ducklings</i>. It does so with a mini-parade with parents and children all dressed up in their ducky costumes. There are also a ton of activities before but because of the rain we just made it for the parade.....</div>
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<b><i>Lee is a very happy duckling and a cute one at that</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Ever try to get a baby to pose for a picture...uhh, granted Aaron and I are not looking either. I actually love love this picture.</i></b></div>
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So we marched in the parade and into the public gardens just like in the book. Then we hung out and looked at all the real duckies for a while and finally headed to Newbury for a wonderful trip to North Face - sometimes it is about running ;)</div>
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<b><i>Lee is not sure about these duckies</i></b></div>
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In the end, it was a wonderful day. I am totally zonked and I hope everyone had a great day as well.</div>
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<b><i>How was everyone's weekend?</i></b></div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-51185600869405263872013-05-09T03:43:00.000-07:002013-05-09T03:43:26.129-07:00Aaron's Big Year<br />
Hi everybody! Remember me? It's been a while.<br />
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I have a bit of a confession to make; I've owed Steph this post for about 5 months now. Back in December, I hit a major low point in my running. While juggling the new baby, recovering new mommy, anxious puppy, and working from home, I stopped exercising altogether with the exception, of course, of hockey. It wasn't healthy and on New Year's Day, I took the first step to changing that by running a 5K. It was symbolic in that the previous year marked my first 5K or race of any kind. A year later, I officially dropped 1 minute off my time, but added 3 or 4 from my PR. I was happy that 3 or 4 weeks off was still enough to do better than the previous year, but I was bummed that I let things go on as long as they did.<br />
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<b><i>Note how exhausted I look</i></b></div>
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With that, I set out to keep myself running for the full year. I called 2013 "Aaron's Big Year". The goal was to run at least one race every month and lose weight in the process (more on that later). While the intention was there, the funds weren't and I had to cross 5 races off my list. Back in January, I decided that I was going to run the New Jersey Half Marathon, but as April turned into May, I knew this wasn't meant to be. It was destined to be "Victim Race #6".</div>
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While in New Jersey for Steph's race weekend, I told her about my disappointment in setting this goal only to have it escape my grasp. Last weekend was supposed to be MY race weekend too.<br />
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At the Expo, Steph generously offered to register me for the race, but we decided against it. We couldn't afford it and I hadn't run more than 8 miles in one stretch (and that was back in August 2012). I resigned myself to let this one go and hopefully catch another one later.</div>
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As fate would have it, our friend spontaneously got sick and offered me her number. This set the gears turning. Could I even run that distance? I just got diagnosed with tendonitis in both of my ankles. How couldn't I get hurt? With Steph's urging, I decided to go for it anyway. My strategy was to take my time, knowing that the goal is to merely finish unscathed. I could walk each water stop and run the mile and a half between them in order to keep my legs fresher. I'd have fuel and water throughout. With the plan set, I said "why not?"<br />
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<b><i>And if you know Steph, giving into her demands was a huge mistake...</i></b></div>
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Mind you, the last major complicating factor was that I seem to have misplaced my Garmin and, thus, have no way of knowing my pace and adjusting accordingly. I've run the last 5 months or so without one and have become a Zen runner (more on that later), but how in the world could that work in a race?</div>
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On race day, I did my usual warmup routine as if 13.1 miles was just my usual distance. When the race started, I ran like all my regular runs and let people pass me. Tons of people passed me, but I found a stride that was comfortable and my breathing was stable. After the first mile, I saw a clock showing the gun time of 13 minutes and figured I ran a 10 - 10:30 opening mile. Way too fast for this distance! So I tried to slow up and calm myself down some more. A trip through the first water stop and two miles later, I cross the 3rd mile checkpoint at 33 minutes. So much for slowing down. However, I still felt comfortable and smirked at people passing me while huffing and puffing.</div>
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Miles 4 and 5 were interesting because the race snaked through several small blocks. While I was making a left turn, there were the runners ahead of me running at me and making a left turn at the same intersection! It's crazy watching a sea of people running at you and veering off at the last second. I looked for Steph, but couldn't find her. Oh well. Maybe at the next intersection. I finished Mile 5 and reveled in the fact that I had only once run a race as long and felt like death at the time. At 55 minutes (minus 3 minutes or so), I had run a few minutes slower than that 5-Miler and still had tons of energy! I was slowing down somewhat and feeling good, but still going fast.</div>
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I hit Mile 6 and crossed the 10K marker at 1:07 and all of a sudden, the 2:20 pacer passed me and my right achilles tendon flared up. I ran to the end of the bridge and started stretching it out. The honeymoon was over and I knew I'd have to really push myself through the second half of the course. But off I went, running between water stops, walking at the water stops, stretching out my achilles, and repeating.</div>
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Miles 7 through 10 were a blur. I probably zoned out a bit or got really into a train of thought - possibly even visualizing myself finishing with Steph there to congratulate me. I was running at a 2:30 or so pace and was telling myself that I'd be ecstatic crossing the finish line at 2:40. But with each water stop, my achilles felt tighter.</div>
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Even worse, I still hadn't heard from Steph. The finish line was only a few blocks walk back to Mile 9 or so and I was somewhat counting on her to help me through the end. Little did I know she wasn't as far ahead of me as I thought.</div>
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At Miles 11 and 12, I hit the wall hard. I made the last turn up the beach and felt like every other race I've ever run - regardless of how much was left, my legs were on autopilot and would carry me to the finish... or so I thought. I ran past the last water stop, which was a big mistake. I had to walk several times in those 2 miles and couldn't get my legs to keep going. They were spent, but I kept getting closer to the finish.</div>
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Then disaster struck! All of a sudden, my left hamstring locked up with a quarter of a mile left in the race! I immediately stopped running and stretched at the nearest barrier. I didn't notice it at first, but that's where one of the race photographers set up shop. So there's me, wincing in pain while the photographer is snapping away. I was pissed and when I finally felt good enough to walk, I limped past him. Steph saw the pictures and said she's never seen me make those faces before.</div>
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I was content walking to the end. I didn't want to get hurt. Somebody passed me and told me to keep running, so I did. I don't know why she was an authority on my ability to continue on, but at that time, she was just what the doctor ordered. I started to hobble and felt awful. Then I realized that if I speed up, I could possibly stretch my legs enough to not cramp. Off I went past the woman who lifted my spirits and galloped across the finish line in 2:30:29. Were it not for the cramping incident, I could've run it in under 2:30, but that's for another day.<br />
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<a href="webkit-fake-url://166C3CFD-EC04-452B-9D00-DE309CD23B5B/image.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="webkit-fake-url://166C3CFD-EC04-452B-9D00-DE309CD23B5B/image.tiff" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Not the best pose, but I needed fuel after the race, but ate too quickly and was really nauseous.</i></b></div>
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I was proud of myself and shocked that I pulled it off without training, but still Steph was nowhere to be found. She was at the massage tent cooling off! All in all, I had a good time running the race and have to give myself a pat on the back for seizing the opportunity and greatly exceeding my expectations.<br />
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<b><i>As Steph says Postpartum PRs! </i></b></div>
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I may still be sore, but I have a new medal on the wall, a new PDR, and the confidence in myself that Steph will have some competition in the near future!<br />
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Now the only question is what is next....<br />
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<b><i>Ever run a race a whim? What should I do next?</i></b></div>
Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-38779972906840540282013-05-07T03:55:00.000-07:002013-05-07T03:55:36.501-07:00A Postpartum PR - The New Jersey Half MarathonYesterday, I woke up at 4 a.m. and drove from N.J back to MA after days filled with memories of race weekend festivities and activities, and of course the race itself. I am sore, in pain, and could not be more excited to get back into racing! Running here I come!!! We were not even out of the parking lot from the <a href="http://www.njmarathon.org/events/long_branch_half_marathon.aspx">N.J Half Marathon</a> when I began texting friends to ask about upcoming races and how we could potentially be a part of them - <a href="http://www.falmouthroadrace.com/">Falmouth</a>, <a href="http://www.philadelphiamarathon.com/">Philly</a>, <a href="http://www.runlikeadiva.com/Events/Long_Island__NY.htm">Divas</a> - please let me in!!!<br />
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But before we get to my dreams and aspirations (a whole other post indeeds) let;'s just start with the past 72 hours of the N.J Half Marathon. And with that I would just like to preface the fact that I have not run over 10 miles since February 2012. In fact, I purposely reduced all running and gained weight to get none other than beautiful Baby Lee<br />
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<b><i>Worth it!</i></b></div>
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While I did run during pregnancy, it was nowhere near what I was doing pre-pregnancy. After pregnancy, I did not do anything until about week 7 (mid-January) and did not run until February - and it has not been easy going. I know some people come back fast and in all honesty I am super jealous but for me its been a bit slow. That is O.K though, I am happy to be slow (for me anyway) if it means running with the family.<br />
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<b><i>Nothing like it!</i></b></div>
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Thus, I had no idea what this half marathon had in store for me. My coach told me to just find a simple comfortable pace until mile 8 and if I could speed up after that to go for it! If not, just hang on for dear life. So clearly he was not expecting too much either. That's ok by me, either was I, although I secretly hoped for a 1:50ish time. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghe8svIHp02Ewop7OLuLVgl0UwTLVxl4ZHycd5yyYuNKBtm7X3CUnj9kgaPpGYJprTfLdPX-JwZ2As7_Ehg6nX9WJ02q-GmfDqkSDS4rDaC-0N3ple_yn84hwxW13dFUtQiVRMhfvX2gj6/s1600/DSC_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghe8svIHp02Ewop7OLuLVgl0UwTLVxl4ZHycd5yyYuNKBtm7X3CUnj9kgaPpGYJprTfLdPX-JwZ2As7_Ehg6nX9WJ02q-GmfDqkSDS4rDaC-0N3ple_yn84hwxW13dFUtQiVRMhfvX2gj6/s320/DSC_0888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Expo - Mommy Runners and their babies and BOBs - So wonderful to have a playdate at the expo with <a href="http://www.runnerstrials.com/">Jen</a>, <a href="http://runbakerace.com/">Liz,</a> Lucas, Lee, and Wyatt. These ladies are the best check them out - sweetest ladies, cutest babies - enough said.</i></b></div>
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So Sunday morning we woke up at the wonderful 3:45 hour and headed to the race. I say we meaning Aaron and I...more on that later. Pre-race it was cold and windy but I huddled together with Jen and Aaron and kept warm. We stood huddled in the corral together musing about why on earth we did this. Then, there was no time for second guessing we were off.<br />
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Silly me, I thought I could keep up with my fast friend - hah. I quickly lost sight of her as she cruised forward, but you can read her <a href="http://www.runnerstrials.com/2013/05/06/long-branch-half-marathon-2013-race-recap/">repor</a>t on that. The plan in the beginning seemed to be going O.K, I held a steady 9:00 mile pace for the first three miles but was completely parched. I had such a dry mouth. All week I was plagued by said "dry mouth" and the first five miles of this race were no different. So the first three to five or so consisted of me determining exactly why my mouth was dry, exciting stuff I know. I resigned to blame it on my medication - more on that later. I even went as far as to try Gatorade at the second water stop - that lasted for about a sip and then I just kept with water. I pushed on through those first five miles scientifically determining through my race mind intelligence the origin of said dry mouth while stopping at each water stop. The water stops, by the way were wonderful - every 1.5 miles. It was exactly what I needed but I could have used more and hope that at some point I can learn to actually use this thing....<br />
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<b><i>I gave birth, I have hips, Water Belt Here I Come!</i></b></div>
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By mile 3 I was warm, I did the impossible, I sacrificed my favorite, Boston running shirt. I gave it a kiss and let it go...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld-jHJnu1XXPKFJen0MxJ5V29wRtJ4EOxsNY1ikICXu-hFhZGnSTFHQslI9lAtw1dh4WWQRzSgGKwH42DujA2In36ZanvnRBVz5XB6Z3HHKhy6tipJ-eZwFBciFZOOttM1mrvyoLUzxqj/s1600/IMG_0080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld-jHJnu1XXPKFJen0MxJ5V29wRtJ4EOxsNY1ikICXu-hFhZGnSTFHQslI9lAtw1dh4WWQRzSgGKwH42DujA2In36ZanvnRBVz5XB6Z3HHKhy6tipJ-eZwFBciFZOOttM1mrvyoLUzxqj/s320/IMG_0080.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Luckily last night I found a lone one on the rack at City Sports and scooped it up.</i></b></div>
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By Mile 4, I was feeling it and not in a good way. Mile 4 and 5 came in at 9:13 and 9:26. People kept passing me and that is when I heard it - the 2:00 hour pacer. It was so defeating. I did not want to run a 2:00 hour marathon, I knew I could do better than that. And yet here was Mr. Pacer coming up and pacing me (although he was totally awesome). I ran with them for a half a mile and got my motivation for the next several miles to push on. Mantras came quick and easy<br />
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"I am not a two hour half marathoner" "I am not a two hour half marathoner"<br />
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Although in retrospect, I should have hung out with the two hour pacer. (Please note, nothing wrong with a two hour half marathoner. For me, I was just hoping to go under 2:00 hours. This race humbled me and reminded me how <i>hard </i>running really really is). I continued with my mantra as I could hear the two hour pacer trying to get ahead of me. And just like that my determination and old race junkie self came rushing back I repeated my mantra; I started to play the game of who could I pass; I added new mantras<br />
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<i>"I gave birth naturally, I can do this" "</i><br />
<i>"Embrace the pain, let it be there" (coming directly from a birthing mantra)</i><br />
<i>"Dig Deep"</i><br />
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<i>Mile 6-9 - 9:01, 9:03, 8:52, 8:57</i><br />
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Around Mile 10, things got hard. I kept up with my mantras and determination, but alas my body was ready for this thing to be over. I watched with sadness as the two hour pacer passed me. I saw him to catch up to the 1:55 pacer and my crazy race mind determined that the 2:00 hour pacer was going too fast - that had to be it, even if my Garmin said differently. The last 2.1 miles were tough. We headed up some hills and onto the boardwalk where we were met with the wind. <br />
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I wanted it to be over, I was done, I even decided ok so I am not a two hour half-marathoner but I am a 2:05 half-marathoner. So I started to say "I am not a 2:05 half marathoner." Adjust, embrace, it is O.K.<br />
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Recently, people have expressed that runners are a different breed. We unite. When you run a race you feel that. At Mile 11, I began to play the "do si do"game with a guy. He told me<i> Let's go!</i> I did, I passed him and told him to keep up. He passed me. I kept him in sight. We kept each other going. He won out in the end, but I was happy to once again have made a friend to lean on in running. There is nothing like it.<br />
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<i>Mile 10-13.1 - 9:58, 9:01, 9:44, 10:00, 4:47</i><br />
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And then that was it. I crossed that wonderful finish line - 2 hrs and 2 minutes after I started. My joy of racing had returned. Did I truly want to have been able to go faster? Yes. But given that I am just back to training, given that I have not run this far in a long time, and given that I just had a baby - I will damn well take it. So there, <a href="http://runforfun-stephanie.blogspot.com/p/amenorrhea-infertility.html">hypothalamic amenorrhea</a>.<br />
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Once I finished the race, I was done. I kind of staggered around for a while and settled finally right outside the massage tent to eat a big soft pretzel, put my name in for my massage, ice, <br />
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<b><i>Soft pretzels at the finish - hell ya!</i></b></div>
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And oh wait for Aaron....I will let him to tell you that tale. <br />
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This is too long of a post and you probably all have given up on me, but I wanted to highlight two more things about this race.<br />
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1) DO IT!!!!<br />
- It was completely well organized, awesome, friendly, and fun;<br />
- The medals were amazing;<br />
- There was water and Gatorade throughout;<br />
- Ice and massages at the finish along with big soft pretzels;<br />
- The shuttle buses were a breeze;<br />
- The race course was excellent - it did some fun loops to always keep you interested during which <br />
time you could see other runners running different miles; and<br />
- Most would say it was flat and fast - I was not used to anything resembling a hill so I would say it <br />
did have some rolling hills but a good mix<br />
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I will see you in 2014!!!!<br />
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2) I have caught the racing bug. I AM BACK. The ride home was spent deciding what other races to do and convincing friends to join in. A good portion of last night was spent online determining my race schedule. <br />
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Alright, I promise I am done. Happy Tuesday all! I hope you are still with me at this point and if you are thank you!!!!<br />
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<b><i>Do you ever get that "dry mouth" problem? </i></b><b><i>Who can tell me how to run through and drink from those little water cups at water stops or better yet how to actually use my water belt? Who else raced this weekend?</i></b><br />
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-21585029061598003932013-05-02T16:11:00.002-07:002013-05-02T16:11:21.979-07:00You Know it is Race Week....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The countdown has officially begun. On Sunday, I will run the NJ 1/2 Marathon, which I was originally expected to run as the full last year and then downgraded to the half and then deferred because you know...</div>
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<b><i>Forget 1st trimester, the first 18 weeks of pregnancy were hard for me</i></b></div>
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This is my first true race in over a year. The last race I truly raced was back on February 6, 2012 - yes I remember the date...</div>
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<b><i>February 6, 2012</i></b></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Unless you count this race....</span></div>
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<b><i>November 22, 2012...</i></b></div>
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<b><i>At least it did its job...</i></b></div>
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<b><i>November 23, 2012</i></b></div>
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Ok back to the point, it isofficia lly race week for me and it has not been such a week in a long long time. In fact, it feels like my first half marathon ever! But even with feeling like I have never run a half those things that you do in the week leading up to the race never seem to change and come right back like old habit. Here comes the list of the week</div>
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<b><i>Top 10 Ways You Know it is Race Week</i></b></div>
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10) All of your workouts, runs etc. sucked and you have convinced yourself your race will too;</div>
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9) You have been thinking about the perfect playlist all week and yet spend the late hours of the night before the race finalizing the exact dream playlists as all your other playlists will not work in this situation;</div>
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8) You have convinced yourself you are dehydrated and now must go out and buy several extra tubs of Nuun to ensure hydration is complete;</div>
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7) You can't decide whether the race or the expo and friends is the more exciting part of the weekend;</div>
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6) Instead of sitting around the day before the race to rest up you go and have a blast and spend too much money on things you do not need, but really do need as a runner, at the expo;</div>
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5) You have been debating outfit choices since the beginning of the week and still have not decided what to wear;</div>
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4) You have the obligatory dream about forgetting your Garmin or showing up late to the race altogether;</div>
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3) You come up with phantom injuries and illnesses;</div>
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2) You make trips to the doctors for such phantom illnesses during which time you find you wasted a $25 copay on said phantom injury or illness; and </div>
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1) You ditch the heels and refuse to wear anything but sneakers 24/7, even to work</div>
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So here we go 13.1, I am coming to get you. It's go time!</div>
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<b><i>How do you know it is race week?</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-6471375204727877122013-04-21T14:18:00.002-07:002013-04-21T14:18:59.762-07:00Running Reflections - BostonI know I wrote about my Boston experience more quickly than others. I understand. People cope and reflect in different ways. For me, it is talking or writing about it, that is just who I am. Thus I hope you do not mind if I reflect some more after this week writing, blogging,....and of course running helps....<br />
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This morning I set out on my 7 mile run (equipped now as always with my cellphone and my Road ID). The goal was to run to Aaron's Temple softball game and meet him and Lee there. I knew this run was going to be different for me. Last night, I put on my Ipod a portion of my marathon playlist those songs that speak to me, that motivate me, that heal me. This morning I considered just listening to a book on tape, but I could not. I knew I needed this run to reflect, to be proud, to be strong (p.s. I know "Boston Proud, Boston Strong" is sort of maybe cliche but it is just so true that you just have to love it).<br />
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<b><i>Post Run Smiles</i></b></div>
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<i>Mile 1 - Songs - Eye of the Tiger, We're Not Gonna Take It</i><br />
I felt strong, I felt relieved, I felt sad, I felt proud. I did <i>not</i> feel scared. As others have said and felt in the past week, this week's events have hit home for me in a way that no other tragedy has. I lived in NJ on September 11th. I remember it vibablly, I remember the atrocity. It was awful, but it was not like this. This was different. I was there, I thought my family was there, I had friends there. As the week has gone on, I have come to the realization of how close we were. How we did not even realize the full effect of what was going on only a block away; how if one thing had changed we would have been crossing that line at the same time, the wrong time. This was an attack on my home, my friends, my family, my sport....<br />
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<i>Mile 1 8:42....</i><br />
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<i>Mile 2 - Songs - Lean on Me, Don't Stop Me Now</i><br />
I have never more proud to be a runner. To sport the half marathon shirt I was running in. To be running down the street was enough to make me proud. To show that terror won't stop me, won't stop us. Do not mess with runners, do not mess with Boston. Do not mess with my people, my family. <br />
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<i>Mile 2 8:48...</i><br />
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<i>Mile 3 - Songs - Shut up and Let Me Go, Shippin Up to Boston</i><br />
Hitting my trail, thinking of <a href="http://westfordmommy.blogspot.com/">Robin</a> and I running last Monday - those last 8.2 miles. Remembering how much I love racing, love running. Thinking of how much I want to continue it - for the friends, for the fun, for the family for the love of the game...<br />
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<i>Mile 3: 8:37</i><br />
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<i>Mile 4: Songs - I wanna go, I've Had the Time of My Life</i><br />
Seeing other runners on the trail, nodding to everyone; things seems as they always have except today you make the extra effort to say hello to your fellow runner to offer your congratulations. I think of all my friends who I know through "real life" and through blogging and all their friends and family who ran last week and remember. I think of those who ran towards the mayhem; my physical therapist, who like so many others, was a block away, who was held back but said NO he was going in to help. I feel guilty that I was not one of those people, that I ran away. That all I could think of was to make sure I could confirm my family was safe and in that moment it meant calling as many times as I could to hear Aaron's voice (probably 100s) and to run away. But I do not judge myself or others. We want safety, we need safety. I am so thankful that I live in Boston, that I live in a world where there are good people, that people are safe, and that they caught them. So many of us, however, are only starting to heal and have a long way to go physically and mentally - we will move through it together, as always<br />
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<i>Mile 4: 8:45</i><br />
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<i>Mile 5 & 6: One Way or Another, The Edge of Glory</i><br />
The hard part now, lots of hills, too many hills. Thinking again of last week of Newton Hills, Heartbreak Hill. No, I did not run the whole marathon. Yes I was running "fresh" that day but if I can do that, if we can get through that (and I don't just mean the marathon...) we, I can do this. I will push. I will finish.<br />
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<i>Mile 5 & 6: 8:47, 8:55</i><br />
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<i>Mile 7: Born in the USA, Give Me Everything, Que Sera Sera</i><br />
Back on the street, watching all the people getting ready for church walking with their families - happy. I can do this. Feeling proud, feeling strong.<br />
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<i>Mile 7: 8:32</i><br />
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At the end, I was at a softball field just in time to meet my family for a day of family softball where the dads play and the moms, babies, and puppies cheer on and have social hour. It was a wonderful morning. It was happy, it was normal. The run was fast and strong for me. The fastest since giving birth to Lee. The morning, the people, the run, the other runners it all gives me hope, it gives me confidence, it gives me faith, and it gives me strength. Boston will survive. We will go on. We will keep on running. <br />
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-62371245283401060662013-04-16T03:50:00.001-07:002013-04-16T03:50:22.160-07:00Running the Boston Marathon - Reflections<i>There have been a few times I have wished to blog to you all. With wonderful news about jogging strollers, great runs, or just to say hello. This is not the post I envisioned writing yesterday at mile 26 where I had just run the last 8.2 Miles with my favorite running partner in the world. This is not what I expected to write as I sit here watching the news this morning....</i><br />
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Last year, I cheered on <a href="http://westfordmommy.blogspot.com/">Robin</a> at the Boston Marathon. I was about 10 weeks pregnant, if that, and very sick. Last year it was extremely hot - all runners struggled. Aaron and I went to Mile 12, 18, and the finish as always. I remember at 18 giving Robin a big hug and thinking that I would run with her next year.<br />
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This year, we planned to go to Mile 12 and Mile 18. We were not going to the finish. I was not going to run with Robin. She was way to fast for this postpartum chick. Aaron yesterday morning encouraged me to try a mile with Robin, Robin seconded, I was in. The plan was to run a mile with her, if I could do that, and then run back to my baby and husband. We joked that I would end up running to Boston. Did I believe I would be in Boston yesterday? No. Was I? Yes.<br />
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I was selfish. I was greedy. I do not know what I would have done if something had happened to my wonderful baby boy and husband. I jumped in at Mile 18 with Robin and she told me she hurt. She had lost her salt tablets, a much much needed part of her race plan, and thus her stomach her, her body hurt, and she could not take her nutrition. But Robin is a strong runner. She is the runner I aspire to be. I knew I would not leave her. I knew she would eventually leave me but I would stay with her and we would run together as long as I could keep up and as we had so many times before I got pregnant and she got FAST. We stopped at medical tents to get any type of salt possible. I talked to Robin about anything I could, I screamed to the crowd and told them to scream for Robin - and they did. She got blisters, her stomach cramped, she was in pain, but she was strong. Strong as runners are. She dug deep, she moved past the pain, something only runners get. As we got close I asked her right or left on Hereford? She, as a true Boston runner, responded<br />
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<i>RIGHT ON HEREFORD, LEFT ON BOYLSTON</i><br />
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And she took off running her race, leaving me in the dust. We finished, well Robin finished in 3:44 or 2:05 p.m. I will let her tell you more...<br />
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We made our way through the finish. My job, take care of a runner who ran a marathon. I did not worry about much else. When we found her husband and walked to a nearby hotel, I called my husband. He was so mad at me - as he should have been. I was selfish. While I was helping a friend, I had left my family. He told me they went home and I was on my own - he would not take my calls after that (I deserved it). We left the hotel a little while later and tried to go to the T. They told us we could not. We were confused. We started to walk down Newbury, we heard a rumor someone died and shook it off as a tragic marathon injury. We met a fellow friend and blogger <a href="http://www.weightoffmyshoulders.com/">Dani</a>. She was white. She told us she just crossed the line and there was a manhole cover that exploded. Her father was there. Her phone was dead. None of us believed it - we expected the worst. She used Robin's phone and called her dad and then we waited with her. Robin gave her food and her clothes. We waited and knew terror had struck.<br />
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Meanwhile, I tried desperately to call my husband. I kept imagining that he had actually come to the finish with the baby to surprise me. That he was not home. He would not answer. I could not get through. I tried, my husband, my brother, my father - the only cell numbers that I still sadly know by heart - no answer. It was so hard to get through. Everyone was making calls. Thankfully Aaron and baby were at home. Aaron was so angry he had come home, took care of the baby, and watched Netflix. He thought my family was calling him because I was trying to get him to pick up so I could apologize. He had no idea. Finally, he saw the word explosion through a text and called. I was never so happy for Aaron to be angry. To have gone home. To be safe<br />
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At this point, as I had been called, we had already started walking West. Aaron told us to keep walking to get across the bridge to Cambridge. I told him not to bring the baby, to leave the baby with our cousin and come pick us up. We walked all the way to Central Square. Robin had just run 26.2 miles and on we walked. Robin handed over her space blankets to wandering runners. We patted other runners on the back. We saw runners looking dazed, I am sure we looked the same....All we knew was we wanted to get away from Boston as far away as we could and home to our babies...<br />
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Aaron picked us up, we drove home, I hugged my husband, I kissed my baby, I called my family.<br />
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When Robin has a bad day, she will tell you she runs a 4 hr marathon. She would have been there. She says if I have not pushed her, she would have been there. I say this not to be a hero, not to be cocky. I say this to be thankful. Thankful that I was selfish that I ran with her. Thankful my husband was angry and took our baby home to safety. To know things happen for a reason, that Robin and I were meant to be friends, to be running partners, to be family.<br />
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My heart breaks today. I will wear my running gear. I will pray for families. I<i> will </i>run again.Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-83363096219310846432013-02-01T03:37:00.003-08:002013-02-01T03:37:28.697-08:00Running Rejuvenated I have not been a mom for too long yet, so I do not pretend to know any or all of the secrets to being a mom (in fact I pretty much learn from talking to other moms), but in the few weeks since Lee's arrival I have quickly realized how difficult a job being a mommy is. Babies are a lot of work!!! I know people joke about this - about not getting sleep, about not having any time, but seriously babies are really <i>really</i> hard! You really give 100% of yourself to these little human beings and it is not an easy thing. Somewhere in the middle of the 11 p.m. and 3 a.m. feeding sessions and lots of crying (sometimes me more than the baby), I started to lose a bit of myself. As soon as you give birth, you become mommy 24/7 and there really is not time for anything else in the beginning. In those early weeks, if I ate breakfast by 11 a.m. it was a miracle, if I showered before 6 p.m. or at all even, it was a blessing and a gift. All of this takes a very heavy toll on a person. That is why babies have to be soo darn cute, otherwise we may all go insane. Don't get me wrong, Lee is an excellent baby and I love him. I also have a ton of help from Aaron, but it is still a big life change and hard stuff. Did I mention being a mom is hard? My hat is officially off to anyone who is a stay at home mom - a job I consider the hardest one out there.<br />
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<b><i>I may be biased but so darn cute I can't take it</i></b></div>
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I did not realize until today how much a part of me was missing. Buried deep, forgotten due to lack of sleep, round the clock feedings, and continued diaper changes was a part of me that was a little lost. A part of me that makes me, well, me. That makes me feel happy, energetic, and alive. Lee makes me feel these things too, but there was another part I was missing, that I have been missing - it is the runner in me. It is the person pre-pregnancy that you know through this blog that loves to hit the open road, that loves a challenge, that loves to RUN and RUN HARD! I set out on my trail today. The trail that I trained for my marathon on, the trail that I run with my favorite running partner, and the trail that I know oh so well that I don't even need a watch to tell me what mile I am at. And as I ran, I really felt like I was flying. Cliche? Maybe. Blame the hormones. But just listening to my music, being on my trail, it all came flooding back to me. A part of me that I had forgotten and was so happy to be reunited with! <br />
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<b><i>Ooo right I love running, can't you tell?!?</i></b></div>
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Like I said, I have not been a mom for too long but I have already learned in order to be a good mom you have to make some selfish time for yourself and I can not think of anything better than hitting the open trail and remembering what it was like before I was Mom. To have something just for me, to have time to be myself, to forget stressors, demands, and priorities and just focus on the task at hand. Sure it is extremely difficult for me to run even 3 miles right now and it hurts like Mile 25 at a marathon hurts, but it is my medicine, my release, my rejuvenation, and my gift to myself. To allow myself that alone time, that time to just be me and to then be able to come home refreshed and renewed to some very cute men!<br />
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<b><i>How do you take time for you? Do you feel guilty taking time for yourself? Is it hard to find that time?</i></b>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-56668410891035120822013-01-28T17:22:00.002-08:002013-01-28T17:22:48.743-08:00Running Humble, But RUNNING!!!!It has been almost ten weeks since I have run. If you do not count the run I did the day before I gave birth, it has been 20 weeks since I have run. It has been 50 weeks since running without a baby inside me and 60 weeks of running non-competitively. That is a loooonnnnnggg time to be away from something you have gotten used to doing every week for years on end. So you can imagine my excitement when two and a half weeks ago I was cleared by my midwife to exercise. And you can also imagine my dismay when I called my PT/coach and he told me that I was sidelined to weights and elliptical training for an additional two weeks before I could run.<br />
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Ok, so I never ever <i>ever</i> disobey my coach, but this weekend I went here<br />
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<b><i>Yup, outside in the warm Florida air!</i></b></div>
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to celebrate with some beautiful ladies on the eve of a very special gal's wedding<br />
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<b><i>The bride and I</i></b></div>
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and left my extraordinary husband home with the baby and the puppy while I partied and basked in the sun. Yes, I know I have an amazing husband, commence being jealous now.<br />
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<b><i>They did fun stuff that was educational too </i></b></div>
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Anyway, back to the point, I know I said I never <i>ever</i> disobey my coach but when you have not really truly run in 60 weeks and you are in freaking FLORIDA and it is beautiful out and you have a three mile loop outside your front door and the indoor gym does not have the elliptical you want, then what can you really do? Can you blame me for running...it was clearly utterly impossible not too. I know so many women postpartum who are back runnings days or just a few weeks post giving birth, I waited almost 10 weeks... I think that is a great amount of patience...right?<br />
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<b><i>How could I not go outside in this weather</i></b></div>
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So the actual run itself. I would love to tell you it was incredible. That I settled into my old 5k pace of low 7s and passed every runner out there. I would love to say that I was not winded, that nothing hurt, and that it was like I had never been away. But seriously, I just got finished telling you that I have not truly run in 60 weeks, how do you think those 3 miles went?!? They HURT - HURT LIKE HELL and I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT. Ok, I did not <i>love </i>that I got a side cramp at Mile .25, that I was gripping with my toes, that I had to use my iPhone for music, that my shoulders and arms hurt, and that I was as red as I was when running a 5k at super speed. But I did love that I was out there, feeling like myself again, bllasting my favorite pump up playlist, passing some people (albeit people who were walking), soaking up the sun and just doing what I love, running.<br />
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The run was 3 looong miles. It took me 28-30 minutes. I wanted to run like the wind, I wanted to move fast, but my body just physically could not. I mentally could not believe how long 3 miles felt! When I saw the mile marker for Mile 1, I was in utter disbelief. How could I have only run one mile?!?! And by Mile 2 I was pretty much convinced I had gotten lost or already passed my starting point because how could I have not gone three miles by now?!? But ultimately, slow or not, I made it and when I got there, well I had a little dance party because I just ran three miles!!!!<br />
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<b><i>Yay for the return of sweaty running pictures!</i></b></div>
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Regardless of whether this run took 20 minutes or 30 minutes, it meant so much to me. It reminded me of my love for running. It let me be myself and just let go. And alas it was also incredibly humbling. At one point in my running career, running 3 miles in 30 minutes would have been a walk in the park. Yesterday, it was incredibly difficult. I had to work <i>extremely hard</i> to make it that far. It reminded me that I have a long way to go to get back to where I am. But I WILL get there. I will train hard, I will run fast, and I will have the time of my life getting there.<br />
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<b><i>Have you ever had to come back from taking a break from running? Is it difficult to get back into it? How do you handle it?</i></b><br />
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<br />Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-72261080849915210842012-12-27T12:48:00.000-08:002012-12-27T12:48:01.459-08:00Welcome Baby Lee!Last post seems light years away. Looking at that person running a 5k on Thanksgiving, it seems like a totally different person entirely. I wanted to post all of this sooner, but well we have been kind of busy around here with Baby Beluga - also now referred to as Lee Michael. There is so much to say about little Lee and our experiences thus far. It has not always been easy and that is probably the understatement of the year but I am totally falling head over heels for this little guy.<br />
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Mr. Lee Michael a.k.a Mr. Man</div>
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Ok so where to start? How about Lee's birth story....<br />
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Just a little background, I have been saying for the two weeks prior to Lee's birth that I would just wake up one morning and know that I would go into labor that day. Aaron had been saying my body was holding out for my Thanksgiving Day apple pie as I may or may not have been saying for nine months that I was getting that pie.</div>
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Thanksgiving came...my due date and I actually felt no prelabor signs that I had experienced for the past week or two - no cramping or bowel movements. Instead, Aaron, Wubby and I set for our 5k/Turkey Trot. Yes, we ran a 5k Thursday morning. Well, we ran the first 1.5 miles and then I got this awful groin pain and we walked the rest of the way. We still won youngest participant. I thought I pulled/strained my groin muscle and waddled around the rest of the day. I was soo mad at myself for pushing it too hard. However, it seems that the goal of moving the baby down was actually what happened...and of course I had some apple pie.</div>
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Friday morning, I woke at 1 a.m. with menstrual like cramps. They occured every hour - which had been fairly normal for me of. Around 5 a.m. they were every 20-30 minutes. I finally woke up with that "hmmm" feeling, but did not want to excite myself and be disappointed. Instead, I let Aaron go to hockey and I went on the ellitpical feeling some pain at exactly 20 minute and 40 minute marks. Aaron came home and I generally mentioned that I felt something was up and that I was going to shower just in case. I did some laundry and texted my doula telling her that maybe I was crazy but it seemed that there was a bit of a pattern. She told me to eat something and call her around 11 AM.</div>
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From 10 to 11, it definitely started to feel like I had low back pain that moved to my inner, upper thighs and into my lower stomach. The pain occurred every 5 minutes or so, lasting 30 seconds, but I was still cleaning the house and getting ready just in case. At 11, my doula said she was going to come over; at home my contractions were more random - maybe 20 minutes apart for instance but lasting 10 minutes or so. However, by that time they were definitely painful. Around 12 p.m. they were about 5 minutes apart and I was itching for my doula to arrive. When she got there at 1 pm, I was hunched over our ottoman rocking and trying to make my way through contractions. From there on in, it felt like there was no break and that my contractions were about 5 minutes apart lasting a minute or so - sometimes less, sometimes more. I had a ton of back labor which was not fun. My doula kept asking me to get up to go pee - which was even worse. I definitely had many of the phrases along the lines of I want the epidural and when can we go to the hospital. My body however really seemed to know what to do when I did not. Many times contractions came in full force starting in the back and radiating to the front - if I was at the toilet I would stand up and bend all the way into Aaron and do squats. Sometimes I just literally fell to all fours looking for a place for myself. Most of the time I did the equivalent of pelvic rocks on the ottoman. The breaks were short - during which time Aaron and my doula had me drink Gatorade and pee some more. My doula continued to provide back pressure, hip squeezes, while Aaron continued to physically hold me up and support me. We tried other positions (the tub) but pretty much just stuck with the above.</div>
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Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was dark, the moon was out and we called the midwife who gave us the green light to come to the hospital. We left around 5:30 arriving to the hospital at 6. In the waiting room, I literally had to drop to all 4s, scaring the receptionist as we came through. She asked how far apart the contractions were and the doula responded 5 minutes. We went into triage and I was 5 cm, 90% effaced, and had my bloody show. My midwife met us right there and I was still so ready for that epidural..</div>
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We made it to our room and were checked again I was 9.5 cm and 90% effaced, +2 station with a bulging bag of water. The midwife was amazing. She was so cool, calm and collected. It was weird sometimes to look over at her writing something on the chart like not a care in the world. No biggie, just painful labor. She stayed with us the whole time. Aaron and our doula took their cues from her. The biggest hump was that last cervical lip. My midwife tried to push it back so I could push for awhile as I feeling such an overwhelming need to push and sooo much pressure. However the baby was posterior and needed to still turn. Thus ultimately, I had to not push for about an hour. This was probably the hardest part of labor. The amount of pressure felt low into my rectum was unbearable. However my team really got me through. It was amazing how through my midwife's instruction I could use my breath to manage this. Every time I got off track and screamed/moaned she instructed me to come back to my breath and I just intensely knew I had to listen to her to get this baby to come into the world. She had us do lunges, squat on the toilet, all fours, go into the bath, and lye on my side on the bed with my feet in the air. Finally, one big push and my bag of water broke - it was such a relief.</div>
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From there we pushed. Again, the pushing seemed to be all about the breath, finding a point of intensity and holding that push, releasing, taking another big breath and another push. All I wanted was to keep pushing to get this baby out but I had to learn to only push with the contractions and to enjoy my "breaks" in between. Soon I got the chance to reach down and feel the baby's head as well as have the mirror to see the baby come out. With each push, I focused on my nurse and midwife's instructions to push, hold, push a little more or not. Finally, actually only in an hour, he was out! Baby B had entered the world - naturally about 11.5 hrs of labor and a 9 apgar score.</div>
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Aaron caught him and he came right to my chest. Aaron also clamped the cord once it stopped pulsing. The placenta came fairly quickly and was not too bad all. I had a second degree tear but no episiotonmy. I cold not have done it without Aaron, my doula, and my midwife.</div>
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Wow I have so much more to say and can't take up more of your time. This may be a little jumbled but I wanted to get out here finally. Baby B or Baby Lee is with us. Sitting on my lap sleeping as I type this. Better get it posted before he wakes and wants to eat. Hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season!<br />
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3777060241019300102.post-83438384929683028162012-11-22T07:59:00.001-08:002012-11-22T07:59:32.074-08:00Turkey Trot: A Family AffairWell Baby B, we made it 40 weeks!! You are due today or yesterday (depending upon what ultrasound you want to follow). I cannot wait to meet you!!! Dad and I are sooo excited (and Wubby too, well if he got that I was actually pregnant).<br />
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<b><i>40 weeks!!!!</i></b></div>
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But in the meantime, while we wait for your arrival, we decided to do what we do best - RUN a.k.a walk/waddle or TROT! This morning my town had a very low key 5k and it was the perfect race for our family. This race was so low key that I had only heard of it through word of mouth, there was no website, all I knew was the time the race started and where to show up. We were worried that this race would not even exist and thus had a backup race. <br />
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We showed up at 7:30 to a card table set up and a big sign that said Turkey Trot and about 5 other cars. We did get numbers and gave a donation (there was no actual cost you could donate food or money)! By 8:00 a.m., there was music playing, about 200 people, babies in strollers, and 10 dogs! The highlight of this race - dogs could run and place as well! We knew we could not deny Wubby the opportunity to debut in his first 5K. Boy, was he excited and competitive staking out the competition with quite a few jumps, barks, and sniffs!<br />
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<b><i>Raring to go!</i></b></div>
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At 8 a.m., we started with a "Gobble" "Gobble." No Garmin but we did rock the dri-fit clothing including my pre-pregnancy running capris (ok so they can't go anywhere across my belly but I will take it and they worked well). We had to start in the back because of the puppy, but no big deal there today as I was not planning on passing so many people. To my surprise, however, in the first mile or so we passed a ton of people and did pretty well. Wubby was totally feeling it, eyeing the competition and even passing a few dogs. Unfortunately, after a while, pain set in and I slowed the Wubs down. I kept getting this pain in my right upper inner thigh and that was enough to make me walk. I tried a few more running trots but knew that we would be walking much of the remainder of the course with this pain. Can't win them all! I felt bad because Wubby could have killed it with top dog - next year Wubs, next year. Instead, we continued steadily walking to the finish with determination.<br />
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Everyone on the course was great and cheered us on and were highly impressed with the three of us hehe. We came in probably second to last with a time of 38:59 but to a large cheering crowd!!! We also won a prize - youngest participant!<br />
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<b><i>Youngest!</i></b></div>
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All in all, a wonderful, low-key community race. People were so friendly and supportive. Next year though we will be back and Wubby will take that first place puppy prize!<br />
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<b><i>Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours!</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving and enjoyed a fun turkey trot of their own!</i></b></div>
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Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01009965989014150096noreply@blogger.com1