The fact that I am about to complain must be proof that normally my life is pretty good. I had a crappy week. Monday was okay because I was riding the high of having run the marathon the day before. But Monday-Thursday consisted of 10-12 hour work days (if you count transportation time and the two cancelled trains) in Copenhagen. And it wasn't even really work. It was a course in sports medicine that I finagled my way into as credit toward my PhD. It was an outstanding course, yet I felt horrible and trapped.
On Monday night, I had time for a swim, which felt glorious. But the rest of the week would consist of my trying to sneak in short runs here and there and realizing I absolutely couldn't run anymore (this meant I actually ate during our luch breaks - yikes!). Normally I can run again without too much trouble two days after a marathon. But most of the marathons I run are on trails, so maybe this was an explanation for why my recovery wasn't going so well. But it was as if I had started some processes in my body; I figured my days of running pregnant were over.
My "runs" were like this:
- start running
- after 2 minutes the first contraction would come
- shortly after the first contraction, my bowels would send me an urgent message, sending me behind dumpsters, trees, you name it, 3-4 times on a 20 minute "run", which was in reality 10 minutes of walking, 5 minutes of hiding and 5 minutes of running.
By Wednesday, I decided there was no point in pushing it and I analyzed my legs, which were huge and swollen with fluid. I finally admitted to myself that it was even uncomfortable to walk. My legs were so heavy. Is this what pregnancy feels like for women who don't exercise, I wondered. Or is this simply my own fault because I ran a marathon so late in pregnancy?
The scale was not my friend either and told me I had gained almost 1.5 kgs since the marathon! Depression. AND our poor kids! Neither SR nor I made it home for dinner any of the nights last week and I had to drop of Christian every day at day care so early that he was still sleeping.
I started drinking diet soda to induce premature labor. Okay, not really. But I started thinking - I can't make it to 40 weeks!!!
To make matters worse, the pocket of cellulite on my right upper thigh, which I monitor at least once daily had returned (it had disappeared after our trip to Mallorca).
But the week of terrors came to an end. It was another longish day Friday, but then I went to a pulse/core class Saturday morning while The Lorax played with cars and hand weights beside me and I felt so fresh and happy. And then SR and I ran for another two hours with The Lorax in the baby jogger. And I could run again! And the swelling was almost gone.
Today I did a bike, swim, run and felt amazing. What a relief! I'm not fast at anything, but I am happy again. And the 1.5 extra kgs are gone. And, as odd as it sounds, the pocket of cellulite is gone again, too. And now just one week until maternity leave begins (which I've chosen to work part time during due to pressures with my PhD - but life will at least be more manageable for a while!). Imagine that SR deals with those kind of hours with his transportation every week! As do perhaps some of the readers of this blog - I feel for you!!!
Sorry if this post sounds trite and superficial - but you do want honesty, right??
Running song of the day: Circuital by My Morning Jacket
Biking song of the day: Desert Island by Architecture in Helsinki
Music I like imagining The Lorax will write some day: Stay the Night by James Blunt (doesn't every mom want their son to grow up and write brilliant, happy melodies?). I can't help loving JB despite kinda lame lyrics.