So last week we put the toddler in the car and drove to Missouri, on purpose.
I was going to write up like a big, fascinating travel report because it’s basically the only thing that happened last week and this is as close as we’re gonna to get to a beach vacation any time soon, but I’m not feeling all story-telly today so I thought I’d just talk about running some more. So if you came here hoping not to read another blog post about being pregnant and running…dumbass.
Last Thursday? I did a track workout!
LOLJKNO. But I did get to run really, really slowly around an actual track. It was soft and squishy and positively dreamy for my poor fat feet.
A few years ago I wrote a blog post about how I tried to find a damn track on my side of town that wasn’t locked up behind an 8 foot security fence. Seriously. What do they think people are going to do to an open field? Steal the bleachers? Joint sub-committee on the 50 fucking yard line? But in certain small towns in Missouri where it’s like 1959 and people don’t even lock their doors (or their meth trailers), the high school tracks are open to everyone.
Side note? Last time I went to Missouri, I ran on the Katy Trail, but the trail head is a good two miles or so from the house and I probably wouldn’t have made it home with my uterus still intact. And the track was only half a block away.
I didn’t take any selfies, but picture a 30-going-on-47-weeks pregnant chick waddling around in a shirt that’s too small and the wrong kind of sunglasses and smiling like a lunatic. That was me.
Monday I was on the fitness trail at my YMCA for 3.5 miles without even having to take a pee break.
I did it again on Tuesday, but I had to stop two miles in to run inside the gym, swipe my card, and waddle down a long hall to the locker room to relieve myself. It took almost five minutes and sort of killed my momentum but somehow I summoned the courage to go back outside and run another mile. Today I ran with the stroller, in 30 mph winds, which made me feel like I was pushing a station wagon. I quit early and I’m really proud of that decision because there’s probably nothing stupider than running with a jogging stroller when you’re 30 weeks pregnant. I ran so slowly I may as well have been walking, and I was exhausted before I even hit 3.0 miles. (LOL?)
The key to running (or any kind of working out, really) when you are pregnant is to quit while you’re ahead. The days that I’m like I feel great, I think I’ll just keep going! are they days that I end up with an achy butt and crotch. So I’ve learned to just do my 3-ish miles and STOP, no matter how incredible I might feel. That’s all I’ve got for now!
Warning: I really want to do an update soon on our new baby’s room (it’s not a nursery okay? It’s a ROOM), but it’s not quite ready yet. I know most of you probably won’t give a shit but I’m going to do it anyway because I don’t do creative things that often and I’m proud of it and also because IT’S MY FUCKING BLOG.
- 1000 words on what amniotic fluid smells like
- Things I’ve added to shopping carts and never purchased
- Why just the placenta? Other human organs I think we should encapsulate and eat
- Metamucil: for happy assholes #unsponsored
Any requests? Because as you can see, I am really reaching here. All suggestions, no matter how obnoxious, offensive or even sincere, will be entertained.