If you think the title of the post will bring you to a write up of my incredible training schedule or a mental run I’ve just completed, you would be wrong. I haven’t run since March.
The last run I had was with my brother-in-law Nacho, around the neighbourhood where my in-laws have a house in Tigre, near Buenos Aires. It was the morning and not too hot and sweaty out yet and we did a nice 5km route chatting all the while.
And then a few days later, I found out I was pregnant again. Fortunately, this time, everything is going well and we are currently 11 weeks out from the due date. But, as mentioned, I haven’t run since. I felt that my running was a bit haphazard prior to getting pregnant, and so I wasn’t comfortable continuing with it. So I’ve been back to power-walking and swimming. I also started a prenatal yoga class this week which was fabulous for both body, mind and spirit. I will definitely keep that up until our daughter is knocking on the door to come out!
And yet I am a still a runner. Why? Because every time I see a runner go past my window, or I drive past a couple of girls out on a run, or my husband comes back from one, I get a small pang of I wish that was me. It’s not resentment of them, I just miss it. I miss the feeling of being in total control of my body in that way and the happiness rush when I finish. I miss the sweat and stretching on my doorstep watching the boats, I miss my running t-shirts and vests that no longer fit over my bump.
But when all is said and done, I am still a runner. And later, after this hiatus, I will return. Goodbye is not forever. Knowing you’ll be back is always a wonderful feeling.
I’m in (hopefully) the last 2-3 weeks of my pregnancy. I feel at times like a balloon; you could hang a basket off my feet, gas me up and I could take you on a lovely trip over the Moselle valley in Luxembourg and Germany. Other times I feel like a walrus, struggling to turn over in bed or get out of the bath; cumbersome and heavy. I have put on roughly 13kg during this pregnancy and I seriously can’t understand how people permanently live with this kind of extra weight, and more.
The most important thing to me during this time is that, as well as getting enough rest, I have also kept active. Don’t get me wrong, there are some afternoons where I don’t feel guilty at all about two hours on the couch watching BBC iPlayer. But I also need to move and do things and stretch.
My main activity has been power-walking. I’ve had some great company on many of these walks from a pregnant friend who lives just down the river – another runner like me. She’s due this week, so has paused the power-walking, but I am still heading out every other day. It helps me sleep better, keeps my appetite up, allows ‘Plum’ and I to enjoy the remaining days of summer. I also think it has contributed to the fact that my legs haven’t swollen and my ankles haven’t disappeared.
Last week I also did some yoga, which I hadn’t done for a while. I followed a 20-minute routine from my book. It felt slow compared to swimming and power-walking, but it was calming and relaxing, opening out my body in a way that my other forms of exercise don’t. “I am connected to the circle of life.” As Plum continues to kick his/her way out, I can only agree with that!
As regular readers will know, I am no longer running. At 32 weeks pregnant my power-walking might even be described as the strange shuffle of a person that looks like she’s smuggling a beer keg along the river. Sigh, but I still get out there and I love it.
Today is my first official day of maternity leave and I am a little loss of what to do. The sun is shining, summer holidays here in Luxembourg are in full bloom, my to-do list has nothing with a deadline like when I was working. My husband left this morning with the words “Take it easy” ringing through the house before he shut the door. OK. BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! Help!
I’ve been swimming a lot recently. Being heavier than usual, the water is heavenly. I can still float! Brilliant! I do a mixture of breast-stroke and front-crawl, and on my last two trips to the pool, I realised something.
You know the feeling. There’s someone who is lapping just that bit quicker than you. Whether it’s running round the local park, or pushing through the pool. And you want to beat them, to get level. You know you can. You pump that bit faster. You kick that bit harder. You get level, you push further, you get past them.
Ha! Did it! Now I’ve got to stay there. Your running/swimming groove is now that little bit quicker. You’ve got a sweat-on. But you need to stay there, just ahead. You’re not quite sure what you’re proving, and who to, but you feel in these minutes of round-and-round the park or up-and-down the pool that there’s some other inherent reason than pure exercise you’re doing this.
You are competitive. That’s why you run with a watch/GPS. That’s why you swim and check the clock. That’s why you get your finger tips to the wall before the person next to you. Or you try to. If you don’t, next time you will.
I finished my swim and sat on the side rehydrating. The man I had lapped in the pool finished up and got out. He noticed my belly, pointed at it and said something in Luxembourgish I didn’t understand. We smiled and he gave me the thumbs up.
Plum, we’re back in the race.
Oh it’s been too long since I wrote here. I’d like to say I’ve been running up mountains, being chased by goats and having wonderful post-run massages. But I can’t, because that’s me dreaming on this Wednesday morning.
The reality is that life has taken over. Life, with an extra layer added to it these days. I am pregnant. We are approaching 20 weeks this weekend, so nearly half way there. It is, of course, extremely exciting and Martín and I are totally thrilled (dumbfounded/petrified too) at the thought of becoming parents in September.
We found out really early on in the pregnancy and I kept up my running, three times a week. Running knowing that ‘Plum’ was with me was a joy, as if I had a mini training partner with me; that I was already sharing this important activity of mine with my prospective son or daughter (we are not finding out the sex until D-day). The doctor gave me the green light to keep running, albeit a bit more gently than usual. I assured her it wasn’t as if I was a 5-minute mile runner anyway!
Then, this month, that green light turned to red. The placenta was in the wrong place and I needed to rest. No running, swimming, power-walking. Boo! Two weeks of frustration ensued, along with those natural worries and niggles. Is everything OK in there? We had extra scans and Plum was grand, moving lots and generally being a well behaved super-mini human. At our last appointment I was given good news: the placenta was moving in the right direction and I could exercise, but low impact. I am willing to compromise!
The truth is, exercise makes me feel better, less stressed; it’s easier to sleep and it gives me a normal appetite. As someone who is usually really in tune with her body and its capabilities, I was finding this lack of control over what was happening annoying. But now, at least, with swimming, power-walking and yoga I am back to giving Plum a healthy ride until September, which is the most important thing.
So, over the next few months, my posts might not be about running per se, but I’ll be keeping you posted on health, exercise and supporting those around me who are running marathons, while with an ever-growing bump.
And fear not, I’ve already got my sights on the running buggy of my dreams… watch this space!