I am three months pregnant. This means running with Little Squish boppin' around, changing what running looks like for the next year (or forever). (I had a dream that we asked my sister to name the critter, and she told us to name it "Little Squish.")
Yesterday I ran the Whidbey Island half marathon with eleven family members and friends. It also happened to be the birthday of my grandfather, who would have been 93. Spending the day with family, seeing my Uncle Jeff running in Grandpa's Hawaiian shirt, and commemorating Grandpa with his favorite Dairy Queen treat (the Peanut Buster Parfait), was a joyful way to remember him.
I was nervous about this race because I've only been running about once a week, with some walking here and there. Adding to the stack of worry, my last long run was a 15k about two months ago, and my cousin Stephanie whose presence makes hard runs fly by wasn't going to be there. I also woke up with a cramp deep in my shoulder that made it impossible to take a deep breath without pain.
But for all my concerns, the run went really well.
Least Favorite Moment(s):
I used all but one of the port-o-potties on the route, and still had to make an emergency squat in a secluded wooded area next to the road. On the plus side, I felt much more motivated to keep running in order to reach the next rest stop quickly. Unfortunately, running also increased the bladder pressure and urgency to release the floodwaters, whereas walking reduced this feeling. Run or walk? Very uncomfortable for a slightly shorter period of time or just uncomfortable for a longer period of time?
This is the second race I've completed while pregnant, but it was the first run where Little Squish made its presence known. My theory is that Little Squish is a huge fan of running, and that when it gets excited, it starts to kick its silly little legs, and swing its silly little arms, inadvertently kicking and punching my bladder as soon as I've run 100 yards away from the last port-o-pot.
Favorite Moment:
I passed three people who were walking, and one of them said, "She looks effortless too." Now, I'm an English Language Arts teacher, so let's take a moment to do a deep analysis of this sentence:
By "she," we can assume they were talking about me. I didn't turn around and check if there was someone else behind me, but no one else was near us when I passed them, so it's reasonable to conclude that I am the effortless-looking one.
"Looks effortless," must have been in reference to my running gait and style, since I was actually running at that moment. This means my self-perception as a clunky, stompy wobble monster is clearly incorrect.
Finally, although small, the adverb "too" is perhaps the most significant word in the statement. It indicates that right before I passed them, the walkers were discussing other people who also look effortless when they run. When one imagines people who look effortless while running, one naturally envisions Kenyan marathoners. Therefore, it is perfectly reasonable to infer that according to these highly astute walkers, I look like a Kenyan marathoner when I run.
I'm sore today, and getting off the couch would definitely not be described as "effortless,"but the aching muscles are a nice reminder that I can still run. And I will still run.
Yesterday I ran the Whidbey Island half marathon with eleven family members and friends. It also happened to be the birthday of my grandfather, who would have been 93. Spending the day with family, seeing my Uncle Jeff running in Grandpa's Hawaiian shirt, and commemorating Grandpa with his favorite Dairy Queen treat (the Peanut Buster Parfait), was a joyful way to remember him.
I was nervous about this race because I've only been running about once a week, with some walking here and there. Adding to the stack of worry, my last long run was a 15k about two months ago, and my cousin Stephanie whose presence makes hard runs fly by wasn't going to be there. I also woke up with a cramp deep in my shoulder that made it impossible to take a deep breath without pain.
But for all my concerns, the run went really well.
Least Favorite Moment(s):
I used all but one of the port-o-potties on the route, and still had to make an emergency squat in a secluded wooded area next to the road. On the plus side, I felt much more motivated to keep running in order to reach the next rest stop quickly. Unfortunately, running also increased the bladder pressure and urgency to release the floodwaters, whereas walking reduced this feeling. Run or walk? Very uncomfortable for a slightly shorter period of time or just uncomfortable for a longer period of time?
This is the second race I've completed while pregnant, but it was the first run where Little Squish made its presence known. My theory is that Little Squish is a huge fan of running, and that when it gets excited, it starts to kick its silly little legs, and swing its silly little arms, inadvertently kicking and punching my bladder as soon as I've run 100 yards away from the last port-o-pot.
Favorite Moment:
I passed three people who were walking, and one of them said, "She looks effortless too." Now, I'm an English Language Arts teacher, so let's take a moment to do a deep analysis of this sentence:
By "she," we can assume they were talking about me. I didn't turn around and check if there was someone else behind me, but no one else was near us when I passed them, so it's reasonable to conclude that I am the effortless-looking one.
"Looks effortless," must have been in reference to my running gait and style, since I was actually running at that moment. This means my self-perception as a clunky, stompy wobble monster is clearly incorrect.
Finally, although small, the adverb "too" is perhaps the most significant word in the statement. It indicates that right before I passed them, the walkers were discussing other people who also look effortless when they run. When one imagines people who look effortless while running, one naturally envisions Kenyan marathoners. Therefore, it is perfectly reasonable to infer that according to these highly astute walkers, I look like a Kenyan marathoner when I run.
I'm sore today, and getting off the couch would definitely not be described as "effortless,"but the aching muscles are a nice reminder that I can still run. And I will still run.
