It has been months since I have posted here, and for several mostly-good reasons. I have not done anything fitness-related since my fall down the staircase back in December, I have done even less in the way of healthy eating (though we have gone gluten-free, due to my husband’s dietary needs), and pregnancy seems to have left me in this stupor as if someone literally hooked up a hose to the back of my head and drained the contents of my brain.
I am entering the last week of my third (ah! three!) pregnancy, and find myself thinking back to how I hoped it would be, and how it actually played out.
My hope for this pregnancy had been that I would continue running until five or six months, and that I would continue an active lifestyle up until the very end of the pregnancy. I had intended on walking daily, lifting weights, walking stairs, and swimming for as long as my doctor and I felt it was safe to do so. I accomplished some of these goals. I continued to run until about six and half months, and did not start again after my fall.
I am not really sure what happened afterwards. My fall left me with a pretty nasty seroma that is still painful, but it wasn’t really an excuse to drop everything. Still, that is what I did. I took a few walks here and there, lifted some free weights in my living room during naptime, I ate a mostly well-rounded and mostly healthy diet, but did not continue with the nutrition plan like I had hoped (hello Ben and Jerry’s Imagine Whirled Peace!). Now, that it is all over, and in less than a week I am facing major abdominal surgery, a newborn, and a long road back to where I was, I wish I had put in more effort. Hindsight is always 20/20, right?
I won’t pretend that I am not pretty disappointed by how things turned out, however I do think there is one pretty major difference in how I am coming out of this pregnancy compared to the others. This time I am so excited to start again. Instead of the feeling of foreboding that usually creeps into my chest this late into the game, this time it is all excitement and jitters – sort of like how I felt as a kid when I knew school was going to start after a lazy summer. Last week, I was driving back from the museum. I had my running mix feeding through the stereo to distract my girls from the displeasure of their car seats, and when I turned onto the street that leads to our home I spotted a group of runners trudging up a pretty nasty hill. They were wearing water belts, and they were wet and looked miserable. The sky was spitting rain; just enough to make you uncomfortable, but not enough to keep you in doors, and the temperature was about 45 degrees. Less than desirable conditions, for sure, but instead of thinking about how lucky I was in here and they were out there, I wanted to join them. My skin started to crawl, and I felt antsy and excited thinking about how it looked like so much fun.
Until it is time to jump back on the wagon again, I will be spending time with my girls, my husband, and waiting on this little guy to alter our family.
Photo by talented Portland photographer, Katie Anderson.
I can’t wait to share this next fitness journey with you, as well as our new adventure in reducing gluten and dairy from our diets (more on that, here) when I get back. Until then, best of luck everyone.