You Know it is Race Week....

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...

Forget 1st trimester, the first 18 weeks of pregnancy were hard for me

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...

February 6, 2012

Unless you count this race....

November 22, 2012...

At least it did its job...

November 23, 2012

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

Top 10 Ways You Know it is Race Week

10)  All of your workouts, runs etc. sucked and you have convinced yourself your race will too;

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;

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;

7) You can't decide whether the race or the expo and friends is the more exciting part of the weekend;

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;

5)  You have been debating outfit choices since the beginning of the week and still have not decided what to wear;

4)  You have the obligatory dream about forgetting your Garmin or showing up late to the race altogether;

3)  You come up with phantom injuries and illnesses;

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 

1)  You ditch the heels and refuse to wear anything but sneakers 24/7, even to work

So here we go 13.1, I am coming to get you.  It's go time!

How do you know it is race week?

Running Reflections - Boston

I 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....

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).

Post Run Smiles

Mile 1 -  Songs - Eye of the Tiger, We're Not Gonna Take It
I felt strong, I felt relieved, I felt sad, I felt proud.  I did not 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....

Mile 1 8:42....

Mile 2 - Songs - Lean on Me, Don't Stop Me Now
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.

Mile 2 8:48...

Mile 3 - Songs - Shut up and Let Me Go, Shippin Up to Boston
Hitting my trail, thinking of Robin 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...

Mile 3: 8:37

Mile 4: Songs - I wanna go, I've Had the Time of My Life
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

Mile 4: 8:45

Mile 5 & 6: One Way or Another, The Edge of Glory
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.

Mile 5 & 6: 8:47, 8:55

Mile 7:  Born in the USA, Give Me Everything, Que Sera Sera
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.

Mile 7: 8:32

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.

Running the Boston Marathon - Reflections

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....

Last year, I cheered on Robin 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.

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.

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

RIGHT ON HEREFORD, LEFT ON BOYLSTON

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...

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 Dani.  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.

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

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...

Aaron picked us up, we drove home, I hugged my husband, I kissed my baby, I called my family.

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.

My heart breaks today.  I will wear my running gear.  I will pray for families.  I will run again.

Running 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 really 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.

I may be biased but so darn cute I can't take it

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!

Ooo right I love running, can't you tell?!?

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!

How do you take time for you? Do you feel guilty taking time for yourself?  Is it hard to find that time?

Running 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.

Ok, so I never ever ever disobey my coach, but this weekend I went here

Yup, outside in the warm Florida air!

to celebrate with some beautiful ladies on the eve of a very special gal's wedding

The bride and I

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.

They did fun stuff that was educational too 

Anyway, back to the point, I know I said I never ever 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?

How could I not go outside in this weather

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 love 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.

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!!!!

Yay for the return of sweaty running pictures!

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 extremely hard 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.

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?

Welcome 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.

Mr. Lee Michael a.k.a Mr. Man

Ok so where to start?  How about Lee's birth story....

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.

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.

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.

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.

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..

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.

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.

New to the world! 

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.

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!

Turkey Trot: A Family Affair

Well 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).

40 weeks!!!!

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.

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!

Raring to go!

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.

 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!

Youngest!

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!

Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours!

Hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving and enjoyed a fun turkey trot of their own!