With my first son I was completely paranoid and didn't run at all in the first trimester of my pregnancy. I tried to find some sort of guidance on running while pregnant, I searched the Internet, Amazon, for something titled "Running while pregnant." Turns out, research was limited and running while pregnant to some was still considered a taboo.
So with a heavy heart I hung up my running shoes until the second trimester, thinking I would never forgive myself if something happened. Once I was in the second trimester and I was cleared by my dr. that I would not be a high risk pregnancy, I started to run again. Although I was slow, I felt amazing.
It seems that running while pregnant has often been frowned upon by those in the medical community, particularly those with the "old school" mentality that you are week and frail when you are pregnant, and you should do nothing to over exert yourself. Now I am not saying if you have never been a runner the minute you see the two pink lines you should lace up and run a marathon. My personal belief is that when you are pregnant, if you were a runner before, running is still a possibility. The good news is more evidence is coming out as time goes on to suport this theory.
Two months prior to finding out I was pregnant Running Magazine published an article on Paula Radcliffe and Kara Goucher and how they both trained through their pregnancies. The article was very candid and explored the challenges they faced while continuing to train while pregnant. They both talked about how they just listened to their bodies and how they tailored their training program to the way they felt. They also expressed the freedom they felt no longer running to be competitive, but to maintain their fitness levels. I was ecstatic to read about these female athletes publicly speaking about their experiences openly and both had healthy babies. It let people know that running while pregnant can actually be done.
Now I know I am no Olympic athlete, and I don't have an underwater treadmill, but I wanted to BLOG about this pregnancy and running while pregnant to let other runners know that becoming pregnant is not a nine month death sentence. I am not a dr., so none of this should be taken as medical advice. I am just your average runner, addicted to the sport and looking to prove that I can run through this pregnancy and have a healthy beautiful baby!
Tales from a running now Pregnant mama!
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Where did I go?
I was out for my daily run and saw a car drive by with plates that read "BRADSMOM," and I thought to myself... really? As if we wouldn't get the picture when your son comes barrelling out of your car and screams "Mom, where's my soccer bag?" It's as if we as mothers trade in our old identity with a new one pre-approved with a stamp that says MOTHER, in case the Mini van and ponytail, didn't give it away.
Although the license plate annoyed me....... it made me think. This year my little man turned two, and I had a revelation. After two years of pouring my devoted new found motherhood into him, I stopped and wondered.........where did I go?
Looking in the mirror I still see traces of me, maybe a frazzled less stylish me, but something inside me did start to wonder, where did I go? It was as if all the pieces that made up who I was were scattered about waiting...... calling to be put back together.
It's funny how I used to focus on the milestones of my own life, college, marriage, children. Now my milestones are focus more on the when to take the bottle away, graduating from the crib and potty training. It's as if time has transformed into something different for me, a portal of self-sacrifice and apathy for the person I used to be.
Since my son has developed new independence, he even brushes his own teeth( with strawbeery flavored toothpaste of course), suddenly have a little more free time. Now, don't get me wrong chasing after a toddler after an eight hour work day can still be relentless, but the other day I realized I have spent the last two years loving every ounce of this little person, and being "Brody's Mommy, " worrying about his ears, his sippy cups, his blanket, his potty, and whether I was being a good mother. I realized I forgot that although I am a mom, I'm also me. I realized my soul needed feeding, reawakening and nurturing.
Back in the day I don't remember telling my husband.........not now honey I am trying to brush Brody's teeth, or no we can't go there because there is no potty. I'm pretty sure my reply was usually "That sounds lovely, lets pack, and oh grab a bottle of wine." I painted, I baked, I even wrote thank you cards. Now I am lucky if I get fifteen minutes to read prior to passing out before bed, that way I might have something more interesting and intellectual to talk about, other then what my kid ate for breakfast.
It's amazing how your individuality can slowly disintegrate leaving you wondering what you did before you had a child. I know now, I'm still me, it's just some of my personality traits needed to be revived and allowed to resurface. I realize now I can still be me and an even better me because I am " Brody's Mommy,"and that piece of the puzzle only compliments the other pieces.
Although the license plate annoyed me....... it made me think. This year my little man turned two, and I had a revelation. After two years of pouring my devoted new found motherhood into him, I stopped and wondered.........where did I go?
Looking in the mirror I still see traces of me, maybe a frazzled less stylish me, but something inside me did start to wonder, where did I go? It was as if all the pieces that made up who I was were scattered about waiting...... calling to be put back together.
It's funny how I used to focus on the milestones of my own life, college, marriage, children. Now my milestones are focus more on the when to take the bottle away, graduating from the crib and potty training. It's as if time has transformed into something different for me, a portal of self-sacrifice and apathy for the person I used to be.
Since my son has developed new independence, he even brushes his own teeth( with strawbeery flavored toothpaste of course), suddenly have a little more free time. Now, don't get me wrong chasing after a toddler after an eight hour work day can still be relentless, but the other day I realized I have spent the last two years loving every ounce of this little person, and being "Brody's Mommy, " worrying about his ears, his sippy cups, his blanket, his potty, and whether I was being a good mother. I realized I forgot that although I am a mom, I'm also me. I realized my soul needed feeding, reawakening and nurturing.
Back in the day I don't remember telling my husband.........not now honey I am trying to brush Brody's teeth, or no we can't go there because there is no potty. I'm pretty sure my reply was usually "That sounds lovely, lets pack, and oh grab a bottle of wine." I painted, I baked, I even wrote thank you cards. Now I am lucky if I get fifteen minutes to read prior to passing out before bed, that way I might have something more interesting and intellectual to talk about, other then what my kid ate for breakfast.
It's amazing how your individuality can slowly disintegrate leaving you wondering what you did before you had a child. I know now, I'm still me, it's just some of my personality traits needed to be revived and allowed to resurface. I realize now I can still be me and an even better me because I am " Brody's Mommy,"and that piece of the puzzle only compliments the other pieces.
Monday, March 8, 2010
MY Little Black Hole
I used to wonder why my friends with small children suddenly turned into hermits. It was like as soon as their child became a toddler they entered the world of social leprosy and fell down a little black hole. I thought to myself, really how bad could it be, and why couldn't’t you just teach your children to behave?
After having a toddler of my own I realized quickly why people with two year olds, took a “time out,” from the social scene they used to frequent. Taking a teething, nap deprived, off schedule, hungry toddler any where is enough cause even the most patient parents to immerse themselves into hiding watching DVR repeats of Sesame Street. Now I’m not talking about the grocery store, my child can usually stand a trip there, with the help of a small bribe in the form of animal crackers. I am talking about social events, dinners, public functions.
I remember when my son was an infant I would take him to public functions, parade him around and everyone would stop and coo over him, and I would smile back at them as the proud new mama. There is something unappealing about stopping to coo over a toddler, covered in dirt, shirt stained, holding a germ infested coke can he found on the ground, licked and is now trying to hand you, and is squirming to be free of his mother as swiftly as possible. Toddlers are no longer babies, but they aren’t children. They are little people with big ideas swirling around in their head, released only in the form of a temper tantrum.
After taking my toddler on a trip anywhere, especially after he has been in a car seat for a long time (which I firmly believe he thinks is a straight jacket,) he is ready to run. In fact he often runs to the first sign of danger, moving objects, or anything that could potentially take him out. My son often reminds me of that dog you see on the side of the road, trying to cross the road with no concept of the fact there is a vehicle moving toward them at 70 mph. A toddler is much the same, a mobile menace, running toward danger at steadfast pace ignoring you and your; don’t, come back, be careful, slow down, stay here, you can’t, MOMMY SAID NO!
When I come home from a trip I am spent! Not only from packing and unpacking a loot of what looks like a car full of things for 20 children, but from trying to keep up with my toddler. We pull into our driveway and he squeals with excitement, as if devil child has freed the fun loving happy toddler who is the child I have come to know. I grab him and take him into our child proof home and I sigh in relief, letting him run free, where I know there is no danger. We curl up, watch a DVR episode of Sesame Street and I realize we are comfortable, familiar and happy in that little black hole we call home.
After having a toddler of my own I realized quickly why people with two year olds, took a “time out,” from the social scene they used to frequent. Taking a teething, nap deprived, off schedule, hungry toddler any where is enough cause even the most patient parents to immerse themselves into hiding watching DVR repeats of Sesame Street. Now I’m not talking about the grocery store, my child can usually stand a trip there, with the help of a small bribe in the form of animal crackers. I am talking about social events, dinners, public functions.
I remember when my son was an infant I would take him to public functions, parade him around and everyone would stop and coo over him, and I would smile back at them as the proud new mama. There is something unappealing about stopping to coo over a toddler, covered in dirt, shirt stained, holding a germ infested coke can he found on the ground, licked and is now trying to hand you, and is squirming to be free of his mother as swiftly as possible. Toddlers are no longer babies, but they aren’t children. They are little people with big ideas swirling around in their head, released only in the form of a temper tantrum.
After taking my toddler on a trip anywhere, especially after he has been in a car seat for a long time (which I firmly believe he thinks is a straight jacket,) he is ready to run. In fact he often runs to the first sign of danger, moving objects, or anything that could potentially take him out. My son often reminds me of that dog you see on the side of the road, trying to cross the road with no concept of the fact there is a vehicle moving toward them at 70 mph. A toddler is much the same, a mobile menace, running toward danger at steadfast pace ignoring you and your; don’t, come back, be careful, slow down, stay here, you can’t, MOMMY SAID NO!
When I come home from a trip I am spent! Not only from packing and unpacking a loot of what looks like a car full of things for 20 children, but from trying to keep up with my toddler. We pull into our driveway and he squeals with excitement, as if devil child has freed the fun loving happy toddler who is the child I have come to know. I grab him and take him into our child proof home and I sigh in relief, letting him run free, where I know there is no danger. We curl up, watch a DVR episode of Sesame Street and I realize we are comfortable, familiar and happy in that little black hole we call home.
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