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Running the 5K
Running the 5K aka The Stupid Thing of the Day
I must be trying to kill my baby. I ran a 5K today. And it’s not like I’m some kind of athlete who runs three miles at the drop of a hat. I do run from time to time, and three miles isn’t going to kill me but I absolutely did not train for this race one little bit.
I signed up for it way before I knew I was pregnant with the idea that it would kick me into gear and get me running again. I have a friend who lost 30 pounds just because she up and decided to run every single race she came across. It’s a great way to get motivated. She’s so motivated she got me motivated just talking about it. So she signed me up too.
The day of the race got nearer and nearer and I didn’t have the motivation to train because I’ve been feeling pretty peaked but I didn’t have the guts to drop out either. So I decided to run it anyway. I mean there are all kinds of mothers who don’t even know they are pregnant yet and they’re doing drugs and smoking and who knows what else, and their babies survive. I figured I’d just take it slow. Worse case scenario, I walk the whole thing. That’s not going to kill me.
What I didn’t count on was that it was going to be fun! I didn’t count on feeling competitive with all the other women running. I didn’t count on the neighbors along the route playing inspirational music full blast and cheering me on. So many people were clapping and yelling out “Go 704! Go 704!” as I ran by, all red in the face. I couldn’t let them down. So I ran. I ran the whole dang thing and I didn’t puke once! I actually felt better than I have for days.
Near the end I kinda made a buddy with another girl. Both of us were running slow. She says, “Not bad for a Smoker, eh?” and I answered back “Not bad for being eight weeks pregnant either.” She gave me an incredulous look and asked me if my doctor knew I was doing this. Nope, I haven’t even seen a doctor yet. We discussed it for a good minute and both agreed that the baby would probably be okay. But I do fully intend to inquire about the 5K and the food poisoning and the 3rd degree sunburn and the cold/flu from hell. This poor baby is really getting a rough introduction into my life.
At the same time maybe this is a good start for my baby and my new role as a mother. I was so impressed by a few other mothers that were running with strollers. One mother had her five-year-old and eight-year-old running right along with her. In fact all three of them kicked my butt! I want to be that kind of mom. I want to be that mom running with a stroller. I want to run with my kids someday just like my dad used to run with me. It’s a great way to start life.
Hopefully, I haven’t ended this little life before it even gets a chance to start. I’m home now and I feel a bit tired and achy but the aches are in my legs just as much as they’re in my gut area so I think this baby is going to pull through. In fact I have these achy feeling all the time even before I ran. Every day I wake up and expect to miscarry and every day there’s no blood. We’re just hanging in there, this baby and me.
But seriously, I do intend to take it easy from now on. No more 5K’s.
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Illustration Friday: Envy
Illustration Friday: Envy
This is me green with envy of my former un-pregnant self. Or more accurately, this is me green with pregnancy. I’m really starting to notice the changes. The biggest one being that if I don’t eat something every two hours or so I feel queasy. It’s like how you feel when you start to have motion sickness and the last thing you want to do is eat something, except that’s exactly the only thing that makes the queasiness go away. It’s very annoying. I’m worried that all I do all day is eat and drag myself around the house barely getting anything done. I bet I’ve gained twenty pounds already and I’m not even supposed to gain one. I’m way too scared to step on the scale to check.
Last week I was walking every evening with vigor, now I’m lucky if I can even get my desk organized. This is pathetic. You know what I miss the most? Not coffee but that buzz I used to get from having a big cup of coffee. You couldn’t tie me down and force me to drink coffee now. I am so turned off by it I hate even typing this sentence because I can feel the bile rising just thinking about it. But in the old days when I had this dragging feeling I would just pour myself a big cup o’ joe and watch the creativity flow. That’s what’s really worrying me.
I just don’t feel creative any more. I’m super proud that I managed the feeble illustration above because illustrating just hasn’t been coming to me the way it used to. These last three illustrations I’ve done on this blog are the ONLY illustrations I’ve done since I got back from Paris! Before I’d do two or three a day! I’m starting to worry that this blog is going to turn into a photo blog. Not to mention how it’s going to effect my work. Thankfully, things are slowing down with the clients I have right now and the pressure is off to be super successful because now I can be a professional mom. I’m very spoiled that I even have that option. I don’t know what I would do if I had to go to work every day. Though a boring brain dead desk job does sound appealing right now. I just hope I get my creativity back. I really miss it. I’ve feel like lost my drive or something.
But not to worry, all this is so worth it. I’m really starting to get excited. I baby sat the Things tonight and I was laying on their couch waiting for the parents to get home and all of a sudden I felt this little twitch in my abdomen. I know it’s way to soon to be feeling any kicking but let me tell you, something IS going on down there. Like some major construction of some kind. When I get up from laying down I feel this weird straining feeling like I better take it slow or I might pull a groin muscle. It’s weird. I’m so pregnant, it’s not even funny. And I’m just barely seven weeks. Hooooo Boy!
Another thing that happened recently is that Toby has sort of opened up to the idea of switching offices with me. This is HUGE. I’ve been obsessed with worry about where I’m going to put this baby once it gets here… and more importantly where am I going to keep all the clothes and diapers and things that come along with a baby. As it is right now, my office is occupied by the humoungous bird cage and there is not an inch of room for a crib even if I did want to subject my child to massive bird allergy attacks. The original plan was to just get away with a bassinet in our bedroom for as long as possible but every time a Pottery Barn Kids magazine comes in the mail (which is quite a lot, frankly) I get all sad inside that I have no little white dresser or gigham lined basket to fold my little onesies and keep them nice and clean inside. I’ve found myself actually tearing up over it. Talk about hormones! So the fact that Toby might move into the bird room is a HUGE HUGE HUGE weight off my mind. He’s not too happy about it because my back room is the crap room. It’s small, it’s got termite damage and holes in the wall and it doesn’t have track lighting. But he can fix those things and I think as the date gets nearer and nearer our priorities will change.
I’m just so excited to have a future room for the baby! In fact, the Things have offered to give me their expensive Pottery Barn crib so I’m all set! I know it’s early to start thinking about these things but I seriously have Baby on the Brain disease. I’m not going to go all out and paint a mural or anything because we really do plan to move in the next few years but at least I have some place I can keep clean and quiet. In my mind it’s almost like a sanctuary of sorts. It’s not going to happen for a good long while because this switching of offices will disrupt Toby’s entire way of doing business but it’s out there. There IS a solution to the problem. He’ll probably want to wait until I’m fatter than a hippo and I can’t even bend over to pick things up but that’s okay. It’s better than the alternative that I thought I’d have to settle on. I was starting to think maybe I could make a bedroom out of our hallway! I was desperate. So I should be able to stop worrying about where I’m going to put my onesies for at least a month or so.
