RnR Savannah - the race that never happened

Before Abby was born, I was given the opportunity to get an entry for Rock-n-Roll Savannah marathon.  At the time, I thought that 5 months would be plenty of time to train for a full marathon, with a baby, while nursing.  I mean, really, what could possibly derail my training for a full marathon? 

It sounded like a good goal at the time.

And then I had the baby.  I had a cesarean which required a little more healing time.  And when I started back to running, it was slow going - not just the pace, but well, all of it.  Running 4-5 miles was a HUGE success by about 2 months out.  There was no way that I was going to be able to build to a full marathon in such a short amount of time.  I focused on my training for the half in October in Ohio, thinking that I would keep re-evaluating as my training went on.  When I maxed out at 10 miles and couldn't walk comfortably for two days, I threw in the towel. 

I had heard from so many people different opinions of me thinking of a full marathon five months after delivering.  The majority of people gawked when I mentioned it and told me I was crazy.  There were a few who said I could do it with no problem.  In the end it bummed me out to set a goal that I couldn't achieve.  Could I have worked harder for it?  Probably.  But when it comes down to it, I needed to listen to my body and the reality was that my body was saying "whoa... not yet momma". 

I've heard it can take up to a year to feel 100% after a c-section.  I'm not there yet.  I'm not in pain that could cause medical help, but things aren't 100% yet. 4-5 miles are still fairly average runs for me these days.  This winter I'm focusing on some core work which will hopefully help with the longer runs and maybe next year I can have a second chance at the full in Savannah.

Dreams

It's been 500 days.  That's a long time.  500 days since I toed the line for a triathlon.  I can barely call myself a triathlete if it's been over a year since I did one.  Do I get my triathlete card revoked (don't get me started on my USAT card... that's long expired)?  I used to race 5,6,7 times a year.  I yearned for the competition, the long brick workouts, the tight spandex... oh wait, I never liked that part of triathlon.  And yet as another "season" comes to a close (you know, because doing one half marathon this year is totally a season people, get with it), I think about next year and what my goals are.  Tom asked me to tell him what my "dream" year looked like and in a all-too-common-lately moody response I said "I don't want to even talk about dreaming... I've done that too much and I just get burned".

It's been an amazing year, but a rough one too.  Tom's been out of a job for a while now and worked incredibly hard on a prospect that was right at his fingertips and then ultimately fell through.  We spent so many hours dreaming of how this was going to change our lives... and it did, but not in the amazing way we thought.  That seems to be the story of our life.  So between that roller coaster, and a lot of quite frankly shitty things, I sometimes find it hard to dream about next year.  Yes, I have an amazing family (my daughter is my world), a beautiful home, food on the table, my health, I'm married to my best friend, etc, but I guess I fear disappointing myself, my family, etc by dreaming about what life can be like.  But no one ever got anywhere without dreaming.

So... I apologized to Tom for my crappy attitude, like I always do, I pulled up my big girl panties, and I started to dream.  I see so much for us.  Tom will have a new career.  My company will be flourishing.  Abby is going to turn one and will be walking and talking and be this amazing little person (I mean, she already is, but even MORE amazing).  I dream of financial stability, and good health.  I dream of flourishing friendships and new ones to come.

And then there's my athletic self.  I know she doesn't really exist right now, but  I want to get back to it.  I want to get back to it good.  I put it out there that I want to win a 70.3.  Most likely my loftiest dream of 2014.  But I have one in mind and I'm going to have to work my tail off to get there (it's a small race and it's not totally unachievable, but it ain't gonna be easy).  There's a half marathon that I ran maybe four years ago in 1:48.  I want to go 1:47. I want to be that person that people look at and say "wow... she brought it AND has a life outside of the sport" (you know, because in said dream I'll look cute when I cross the finish line and my little girl will come running at me with her little bow legs and piggy tails.  Everyone will simultaneously stop what they are doing and "ahhh" together in unison at what an amazing mom I am and how adorable it is that my little girl loves me so much.  This is my dream people... let me have my moment).  It probably won't play out that way, but whatevs...

I will look cute though when I cross the finish line. Okay, reality check... I'll still be a sausage stuffed into it's casing - ain't nothing changing that, but at least the casing will look super cute.  I'm racing in this amazing kit this year and representing the Swim Bike Mom Army. 



After all, no matter how hard this year has been, I became a mom.  My dream came true.  

I have 327 days until possibly my next tri (hopefully I find one before that that suits my fancy).  In the meantime, I'm going to be busy.  I have lots of dreams to chase...

Fall Family Pictures

A dear friend of ours took some fall family pictures when we were in Ohio the other day.  I love the fall in Ohio and although it was a drizzly gray day, she did an amazing job (their property is amazing so that back drop was perfect!)  And yes, we got photo-bombed a few times by some of the animals!  Here are a few of my favorites...

 Thank you Tracy... these turned out simply perfect for us!!!

Columbus (half) Marathon Race Report

I signed up for the Columbus Half Marathon right before Abby was due.  I thought that it would be a good race to set my sights on once she was born.  4.5 months would be plenty of time to get back into the swing of things.  Running has been going okay, although not awesome.  I've been struggling a lot with pace (ie 10:15's have been pretty average) and I find that anything longer than about 4 or 5 miles and I'm hurting.  My hip flexors feel tight and I have some pain in my lower abdomen under my scar. It's hard to not get frustrated and I have found myself repeating "you just had a baby, you just had a baby" when I find myself struggling with a run.  But really, how long can that excuse last?  So I didn't set my expectations real high for the half marathon.  My primary goal, as always, was to finish.  My secondary goal was to beat 2:15. Anything above and beyond that and I would be happy.  I knew that the cool weather and the flat nature of the course would help me a little, but I also knew that I had a whirlwind few days leading up to the race (complete with a 12 hour car ride, two full days of entertaining family members, and a baby shower for my sister).

My biggest concern leading up to the race was how I would manage being away from Abby for that long.  No... I don't have separation anxiety or anything, but my *ahem* "milk providers" refill faster than I'd like some days if you catch my drift. And I didn't need the added pain of that.  I figured that depending on Abby's schedule I would nurse her before I left, and then after my race, head to the car to wait for Tom, warm up a little and pump in the car if need be.  It ended up working out great, as she was hungry before we left at 6 and then I was able to pump in the car before I left to just empty everything out.  TMI I'm sure, but hey, this is what life is like right now!

We got up Sunday morning at 5:45 for a 7:30 race.  By the time we left the house I was nearly panicking because it was almost 6:30 and I knew that we would be running REALLY late for the start.  As we were pulling into the parking lot 15 minutes later, I smiled and remembered we weren't in Atlanta.  Plenty of time.  We got a great spot near the finish, bundled up (it was in the 30's) and marched our way rather quickly to the start.  Found a bajillion porto potties (kudos Columbus Marathon) and packed our way into Coral A.  It was 7:00.  We had 30 minutes to spare!  I was cold... thankfully I had bundled up in my Brooks gear (an Essential Long Sleeve V Neck and my Utopia Thermal Hoodie) and I just tried to not think about it. :)  Soon enough the gun went off and we were running.  Tom and I had planned to just run alone but it was nice to start the race with him - like old times.  I didn't focus on my watch and just kind of got into a groove.  I've run this course a handful of times so I knew what to expect.  It was fun to be back... in Ohio AND racing.

Racing is all relative.  I wasn't running all out or even that fast.  I was very middle of the pack.  And that's a good place for me at this point.  I hit the three mile point and was just kind of in a funk.  I felt alone.  I felt like I didn't want to be out there.  Was I hungry?  Was I going to fast?  I turned on my music and just settled in.  At 6 miles I checked my watch.  Fully expecting to see maybe an hour or so, I was pleasantly surprised to see 54 minutes and some change.  I went through the 10k marker at 56:00 - a 9:01.  Wahoo!  This definitely helped my mind, even though I felt like my legs were not really part of the party.  I continued on.  I knew that I had some friends that were cheering at mile 9 or so and that kept me moving forward.  I saw Sarah at mile 9.5 or so and gave her a huge hug.  I'd be lying if I said that I was having a really great time at this point.  I was slowing down.  I was hungry.  I was still cold.  And I still felt lonely.  It's weird to feel lonely among 18000 other people.  The last 3.5 miles took a lot of heart.

Here is a distance that I've run probably two dozen times.  I can't remember ever battling myself the way I did during the race, but I also don't remember how proud of myself I was for moving forward when really, I didn't want to be out there.  I rounded the corner to the finish and was so relieved to see the finish. 2:04:40 - a 9:31 pace.  Might not sound like much, but I was proud of that.  I have a 4.5 months old at home and I just ran a decent half marathon.  I hobbled my way through the finish shoot, got my medal and food bag (another kudos to Columbus Marathon for this), and made my way to the car to wait for Tom.

I might not have been able to walk the rest of the day or even on Monday, but I'll take it.  You also couldn't wipe the grin off my face.  I'm coming back... slowly... but I'm coming back!

I forgot I was a blogger...

I've been so forgetful lately.  Mommy brain?  Yep... classic case.

Like for instance yesterday when I spent maybe 10 minutes on the phone with Best Buy customer support, trying to change the bank account that is associated with Tom's cell phone protection plan.  I was getting so aggravated as they couldn't link his cell phone with the protection plan.  Then it dawned on me that the protection plan is through Target.   I forgot.

Or how about us leaving the keys to our car, in the ignition, with the car off, while we ran into the grocery.  I mean, everyone does that right?  That same day, when we figured out what we had done, we realized we forgot a bag of groceries inside.

I could go on and on, but you get my drift.

I have started a blog post probably 6 times since July 16th which was the last time that I posted here.  Inevitably, I get about half way done with a thought and the peanut needs me.  By the time that I get back to it, I reread the blog, realize it's pointless and scrap it.  Maybe I just don't have much to say - I don't want to be that lady that just blogs about her kids.  I feel like blogging has been kind of quiet.  Did Google Reader disappearing really hurt things? :)  I know for me, it's just a time thing.  I always find that over the summer.  I'm reading blogs, but not nearly as often.  Many times I sit and read your blog on my phone (yes, you... I'm talking to you) while I'm feeding Abby.  I find that I have a good comment to leave and then my phone is jacked up.  I forget to come back to it when I'm done feeding.

Such is life. 

So if I haven't commented on your blog, don't think it's because I'm not interested or not reading.  I totally am.  And I love hearing about every one's lives - they make mine seem so boring right now. :)  I'll take boring I guess.

We do have exciting news.  We recently added to our family.  With Abby around, time is precious and well, the hills around here are relentless with the jogging stroller (not to mention the heat... or the humidity.  I can't tell you how many times the quote "it feels like a sauna in here" is used).  We were telling Tom's mom this over a visit a few weeks ago and she asked if she could buy is a family present for Tom's birthday and Christmas.  We like family presents... especially since we usually can't come up with anything useful.  This one thought... BEST GIFT EVER FOR NEW PARENTS!!!

Our gym is now complete!  We can run when we want and that my friends, is AWESOME.  This treadmill is pretty badass too.  It has all the bells and whistles and then some - like the 3% decline, the touch screen tablet, runners cushioning in the belt, etc.  And, the kicker for us was the iFit.  So we can log into google maps, map out a route, send it to our treadmill and then run the route using google street view.  Wanna run in Spain? Ole!  Training for a specific race? Map that bad boy out.  Wanna kill yourself with hill repeats in our neighborhood (why anyone would willingly do this, I don't know), just dial them in.  The best part is that the treadmill automatically adjusts the incline and decline to match the elevation of the run. 

Yeah.  Sweet.

So I have no excuse not to get back into running.  I've been chugging along outside as much as possible.  It's hard... I'm not going to lie.  I'm back to 10:15's or so.  Some days maybe sub 10:00's but not often.  I've up to about 7.5 miles at a time.  I feel like the half in Columbus is doable.  Not PRable, but doable.  That makes me happy.    But no Savannah full for me this November.  Just too much on my plate right now with Abs, work, traveling, etc. I'm cool with that.

Heck, I probably would have forgotten about it anyways. :)

Um... so my life has changed???

You know, it's funny.  I knew that my life would change when Tom and I decided to have a baby.  We had 10 months to plan for the "new" life that we agreed we were ready for.  10 months.  You'd think that we'd be totally prepared for the changes once she came.  Then we had a reality check.

Like big time.

I will say, I look at this little girl and I totally melt.  She smiled at the dog today.  I mean, seriously, how awesome is that? 

But I'm going to admit something to y'all.  I am eating a huge piece of humble pie right now - heck, the whole pie is in front of me and I am just chowing down with a fork straight out of the pie pan.  All of my mom friends used to say "you can't do anything when you have a new born".  I would sit there, roll my eyes (hopefully not to your face... if I did that, I apologize) and think "how hard can it really be?"  I mean, newborns sleep up to 20 hours a day, right?  They can't move around.  They don't play with things.  What could possibly be so hard? You know what???  It's hard.

Like really hard...

Like much harder than I ever thought...


My life has changed.  I used to be free to do whatever I want.  I went where I want, when I wanted.  I talked on the phone, blogged, emailed my friends.  I worked the hours that I wanted to work.  I worked out daily (gasp... I can't wait to get back to that because I'm seriously in major need of a good sweat session and am going to the doctor on Thursday in hopes that I get cleared to start up again).  I showered and did my hair.  My toes were always painted.  I wore clothes that I didn't sleep in.

That was my old norm.  And I'm learning to let go of that.  I have a new norm... a mom norm.  This little girl is bringing Tom and I so much joy and happiness.  She lights up my life when I'm sad.  She's funny in the things she's doing at 5 weeks.  She's changing before our eyes and it's fascinating.  But I'm on her schedule.  I cater to her. I sleep when she lets me.  I eat with one hand while the other holds her.  I haven't taken a shower longer than 3 minutes since she's been born.  I've learned to type with one hand.  I have more voice mails than I know what to do with.

Right now I'm Ab's source of food (yes, I'm breast feed exclusively) and although I love it and know that it's the best choice for us at this time, it's hard.  I feel like it's all I can do.  All day.  Every day.  She's growing like a weed which is apparent in her need for me all day.  And then when I'm done and she seems all sleepy and snugly (awesome by the way), something will startle her and she screams.

Some people have heard her and said "that's such a sweet noise and not a scream at all".  But when you hear it on and off all day, it sounds really loud.  Shreaking.  Like "what-could-possibly-be-that-horrible-in-your-life" bad (yes, I ask her that all the time). 

But we're learning.  It's a new kind of life.  I don't get a ton done throughout the day.  Tom is amazing in that he works, cleans, cooks, plays with Charlie, exercises, showers, and supports me.  I feel like if I get a shower, it's a good day. I now get the "you don't get anything done throughout the day" theory.
So yeah, my life has changed.  And hopefully I'll gain some of my old "normal" back soon.  If not, I'll adapt.  That's what being a mom is all about.

The birth story...

Okay, so baby girl is asleep in her car seat... don't judge.  We were out doing errands and she fell asleep and the number one lesson I've learned in the 11 days of being a mother is let a sleeping baby sleep. :)  So, hopefully she'll give me a few minutes to write out her birth story before I magically morph from blogger to milk maid.

So, Abs was due on the 4th.  Originally we were going to be induced that day, but Monday the 3rd came and I totally freaked out about being induced.  There was no medical reason and she wasn't past due yet.  Although I wanted to evict her, I knew that it was okay for her to bake a little longer, with hopes that she would make her grand appearance on her own before Sunday night, when I was now scheduled to be induced.  The week was dragging on and on and there was no sign of baby girl coming. I walked and walked and walked.  I did squats.  I visualized her coming.  Nothing helped. I had mentally gotten in a good place about being induced.

On Saturday night, Tom and I decided to have one last date night as a childless couple.  We got all fancy (aka, I put on my dressy maternity jeans) and went to PF Changs.  The food was amazing and it was the first time in a long time that I put it back like I hadn't eaten in weeks.  We had a great time.  We came home and Tom crashed, which is totally not like him.  He's a night owl, but by 11, he was sound asleep.  Me, not so much.  I was uncomfortable and restless.  Around 3am, I went to the bathroom, emptied the bladder and crawled back in bed.  About 5 minutes later I got this weird feeling and stood up, only to feel a proverbial "gush".  I said "uh, Tom, I think my water just broke" to which he went from snoozing to hyper getting everything together hubby in about a tenth of a second.  Me, well I was a little more calm... making the bed, getting some clothes put together, etc.  I called the doctor and they told me to head in.  By the time I got to the car, my contractions had started - ah, glorious back labor.  Just what I didn't want.  My mom had it with both of us and I figured if it was genetic, I was going to have it. 

Contractions weren't super close together but they were intense and by the time that I got to the hospital, they were at the annoying stage.  They did a test and didn't think that my water had actually broken (don't know what the "gush" was) but since I was 4cm dilated, they admitted me and said that at 7am, they would start pitocin since I was supposed to be induced that night anyway.  I got settled into my delivery room and the contractions started getting worse.

Back labor sucks.  Like a lot.  It's very painful and there's nothing that was helping.  Poor Tom was amazing and taking lots of advice on how to help me from the nurses with back massage and pulling on my hips.  I would have very strong contractions very close together and then nothing for a while.  This happened for maybe 3 hours.  I finally had a contraction or two that I thought was going to be the end of me.  As I was contemplating how horrific death by back labor was going to be, an angel nurse came in and said "honey, we can give you some drugs to help you out".  It was like heaven's spoken word.  The narcotic took the edge off, but they still wanted to start pitocin since my contractions weren't really going anywhere so we decided now was a good time to get an epidural.  I had been all about medicine to help me through labor.  Again, don't judge.  You don't get a fancy certificate for being a badass and doing it without drugs.  I know this.

The epidural was A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

The pitocin started slowly later that morning and everything was fine.  I sent Tom to get some lunch around noon and as he was gone I got a contraction that lasted about 5 minutes and wouldn't release.  Abigail didn't like this and her heart rate plummeted - going from about 130 to 64 in a matter of seconds.  The nurses and doctors rushed in, hooked me up to oxygen,  pulled the pitocin, gave me a shot of something that stops contractions all together and we waited to see baby girl's heart rate slowly increase.  Poor Tom walked in as this was going on and didn't know what was happening.  Once we were all settled, we decided to just see what happened on it's own. 

Nothing.

I was having contractions, but they weren't doing anything.  I was dilating and baby was ready to come, but my body was doing nothing to help.  So we tried the pitocin again.  About 10 contractions later, another 5 minute one, heart rate dropping, etc.  We did this one more time, starting with a VERY small dose of pitocin, but anytime they increased it, my body didn't like that and Abs didn't like it.  So I laid in bed, barely contracting on my own (although I couldn't tell because of the glorious meds) and was stuck around 9cm for nearly 6 hours.

Finally, around 6:15pm, a decision needed to be made.  I could wait it out and hope that my contractions would start enough to get the babe out, or I could have a c-section.  It was my choice... you know, because I have a medical degree and have any clue what should be done.  Tom and I consulted with a nurse who had been with me all day and she pretty much said "honey, this ain't gonna happen on your own.  You are going to end up having a c-section.  We don't want it to be an emergency one."  Decision made.

So by 7pm, they were prepping me for a 7:30 surgery.  I was kind of in a daze.  This wasn't how I had thought things would go, but I was going with the flow.  I had no choice - my baby's health was much more important.  They gave me a bunch of new drugs, but my left side wasn't numbing.  By the time they wheeled me to the OR and started "testing" my stomach to see if I could feel anything, they realized that the left wasn't numbing.  They kept pumping me with more and more drugs until I finally couldn't feel the test (which I later learned was a pinch test that would have put me in a straight coat if I could have felt it without meds).  They finally brought Tom in and started the section.  I got the "epidural shakes" really bad - my upper body was shaking uncontrollably.  They had strapped my arms down.  I was crying.  It was not pretty.  But I had Tom by my side.  At 7:37, they said "dad, if you want to take pictures, now's the time" and at 7:38, Abigail was born.  I heard her glorious wail and just started sobbing.  My arms were still strapped to the table so I had a great deal of snot and tears running down my face and I remember Tom wiping it all off for me, until they handed him our baby girl.  Our daughter.  She was finally here.

What an amazing feeling.  We sat as a family while they sewed and stapled me up which seemed like 2 minutes, but I think it was more like 20 and before I knew it, we were being wheeled to the recovery room.  They got us settled and just left.  It was just the three of us.  Alone.  Together.  Our family was now complete.

Abigail was born extremely healthy.  I'm going to do a post about the effect that fitness had on my delivery and my recovery.  It was huge... many nurses and doctors told me that I would bounce back so fast because of how healthy I stayed for the 10 months leading up to Abigail's birth.  By the next morning, I was in my own clothes, walking around the hospital.  Today, 11 days out, I'm almost in pre-pregnancy clothes and am down 22 of the 28 pounds that I gained.  I don't feel like I had major surgery a week and a half ago.  I'm blessed for that.

You know, the c-section wasn't planned, but it worked out fine.  I was in labor for about 17 hours.  I know what contractions feel like.  I know the gloriousness of an epidural.  I know what it feels like to be scared for my child's health.  I will never forget the look in my husband's eyes as he presented me with our daughter.  And I'll never forget the feeling I had, looking at her in the eyes, knowing that I helped create such a perfect little being.  It was a great delivery story, one that I'm very proud of and will never forget!