Tag Archives: pregnant runner

First Week of Marathon Training Postpartum

16 Jul

Hello lovelies!!!

Happy Saturday – woot woot! Today marked my longest run postpartum – 8 miles at an easy pace – averaging 7:52/min. My lungs and legs felt fresh. Granted, I could have definitely welcomed speed, but for first time ever, I’m following a marathon training schedule and it told me to go easy. Yup! This mama is ready to BQ!!! And with training I hope to shed the baby weight too. ..

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The hardest part of marathon training post baby so far has been to be patient with miles and time because let’s face it, during pregnancy we’re told not to: run for too long, not to elevate our heart rate, not to exert too much energy etc…Therefore, running for long periods of time is new again – my mental training to tackle distance is lacking. The second challenge is running in between feeding sessions – I’m always racing against my milk coming in 😂. .

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Anyway, I really wanted to go faster and/or longer today but I took a step back and told myself that I am committed to embracing the marathon program that promises speed. If I could run a Mary before (or 3), then I can definitely run one again 🙌🏼!!! I mean shoot, I only missed Boston by 4 minutes before while having bronchitis – perhaps I’m closer after baby? Either way I’m loving the journey! First week of 12 ✔️ done and done! .

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Hello, #Boston! I’m coming for you!!! 💙💛 #bq

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Thanks for stopping by! XO.

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Valgal 


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A Walk/Run Sequence- Who Am I?

22 Apr

Fitness for two:
This Garmin snapshot of a walk/run sequence may not make me look like a Boston bound runner – but training 20lbs more than my race weight has surely got to give me some kind of advantage. Riiiiight?! Post-Partum Expectations – compliments of Runner’s World.

Excerpt:

There’s a theory as to why some runners have a good post-partum running experience – it’s called the “remodeled” heart. “During pregnancy, the heart actually changes to accommodate for a higher level of blood circulation,” Mottolla said… The result? The heart likely doesn’t have to work as hard at any level of exertion following the process of giving birth. It’s something akin to the benefit some runners might experience from training at a low heart rate—eventually the heart adapts and helps move runners forward at less effort.

***Less effort -💪🏼😜✌🏼️ helllstotheyes!!!

Many runners speculate that their increase in oxygen-rich red blood cells helps boost post-partum performance. This is true, but only for a short period.

***💪🏼😜✌🏼️ I’ll take it!!!

James Pivarnik, Ph.D., professor of kinesiology and epidemiology at Michigan State University said there is the possibility that the hormone relaxin, which helps prep a woman’s body for delivery, might play a role. “If relaxin makes a woman more flexible and that increases her stride length by even a small bit, she might benefit,” he said.

***💪🏼😜✌🏼 I’ll take this too!!!

New moms might also experience a psychological boost from the delivery process. “There are women who might realize that if they can give birth, they can tough it out in a race, too,” Pivarnik said.

***Oh my gosh, I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I can finish a marathon no problem regardless of pain, fatigue, exhaustion, legs heavy with lactic acid, but birth? Epidural please!!! ✔️ Anyway, with relentless focus, hard work, and baby in tote (we got the BOB stroller!!!) my dream will come! Boston will happen!

How are you managing your goals during pregnancy?! Let me know by leaving me a comment!

Thanks for stopping by!

XO

Valgal

Dreams of Boston: From Chasing Boston to Chasing Baby

22 Apr

Today was the 2016 Boston Marathon. I planned on BQing this year to secure my spot for 2017 but life happens – literally. My body is not my own.

I find myself 9 months pregnant and determined to not let my fitness and fitness goals get derailed.

I’ve had a wonderful pregnancy but let me tell you this – pregnancy is hard. I will be honest and say I miss my body. The body that carried me through many races. Fit, trim, lean and light.

To date, I’m sporting extra pounds that have found a new home in my thighs and arms aside from the belly. I’m very accepting of this. Yes. But the change is still challenging.

I don’t want to sound vain – only honest. For those of you pregnant mamas that scroll through feeds that showcase the ✨ glowing claims of how fab it is to be pregnant and you just don’t feel it – I’m telling you that sometimes we filter the ugly (the thoughts, the feelings, the emotions, the symptoms). It is most definitely not all rainbows and butterflies. At times it is a stab to your ego. I’m not trying to undercut the miracle of pregnancy – because I do love it, but with it there are accompanying struggles.

Struggles of self-acceptance. It’s normal.

There’s some boilerplate bullshit out there shaming women who admit to feeling insecure with their pregnant bodies. Don’t listen to them. Embrace the #hormotions. The highs and lows. It is part of the journey. Enjoy the marathon. It might not be Boston, but it is #40weeks of training!

Hopefully in the next few years I’ll look back on today with a BQ under my belt – back to the fit, trim, lean and light #runnergirl I am with Ori and daddy waiting for me at the finish lines!

Thanks for stopping by!

XO

Valgal

My Life Between the Miles: Cancer Can Suck It

12 Feb

Good afternoon lovelies!

 

It’s been a few short but evidently growing weeks since my last post from this mama-to-be! Can you believe it that we are at 26 weeks and 5 days – 2 whole days shy from hitting 27 weeks, which per American Pregnancy Organization puts me in the third trimester!

 

Where did the time go?

 

Time is fleeting. Andy and I have met so many unfortunate and fortunate realities over the course of our newest beginning to include that as parents-to-be but more romantically, our new beginning as Andy and Valerie – getting our shit right for the final time (it took us 16 years to get here – and the path wasn’t all that linear).

 

Anyway, I’m so fortunate to have Andy by my side. He has and continues to be my rock. Life is full of obstacles, burdens, blunders and at this moment the dichotomy of life and death has blinded my foresight – something I affirm to be a great strength of mine. There is so much ugliness in the world. Some of it is intentionally committed. Some of it takes shape as cancer. Some of it is concealed by mental disturbances. All of it is part of the journey of life. But I dislike it nonetheless. I accept that the ugly helps to contour the beauty.

 

And while I openly charge cancer for assault, disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, drug trafficking, extortion, harassment, identity theft, robbery, securities fraud, and theft to name a few – I recognize that these convictions do not dilute the love in our eyes. The love is stronger. Braver. More courageous.

 

Cancer can break you. It can break your loved ones. What’s healing is the love that manifests from places and people previously unknown to be there – but they were always there – silent champions for hope. There is so much magic in love. I can’t get over how such a dark truth can blossom unyielding love, hope, admiration and prayers that light hope. I’m moved.

 

I’m nearing 27 weeks of pregnancy. Baby girl will be here in 13ish weeks! I’m incessantly happy over becoming a mother. And I can’t stop thinking about how my sweet girl has given life to those I love – with whom she’s never met. She is already a savior. She is my little Saint with mighty force in her belly kicks. She has already saved me from focusing on the things I cannot change.

 

It is because of my unborn daughter that I can see past some the ugly and stale states of reality in my peripheral vision. She is all I see. And when I see her I see my mother-in-law. I see Ori being held by a woman who embraces hard things with a brilliant smile, a fierce attitude and a gentle touch. This is the image I have. Every. Day. It feels like a memory. It envelopes me with warmth and peace. It’s like describing a color I’ve never seen before but I know that it looks and feels like love. One. Of. A. Kind.

 

At times I pray in silent obstreperous fits pleading for a cure. It’s not rational but do you know or have you known a rational pregnant woman? Cancer Can Suck It.

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For any of you out there forced to struggle with grim realities, I hope you find magic in the moments that are ordinary. I hope you have a tribe of people who uplift you.

 

I am exceedingly blessed to have a man with whom he shares his heart with mine, who finds magic in the routine, acceptance in chaos, and loves courageously. It is because of him we are welcoming a daughter in this world who will embody his free-spirit of which he learned from his mother – a saint of saints. With each passing day I know that our little girl is one day closer to meeting her grandma. I can’t wait for the day I can take a photograph of the moment imprinted in my vision. Those two girls will have so much love in their eyes. (okay, I am sobbing).

 

Thanks for stopping by!

 

PS – I love you Andy, Yoshie, and Oriana.

 

XO

 

Valgal

 

(I’m off to run now-Blog about running for two to follow)

Thoughts From 22 Weeks of Pregnancy

14 Jan

Good morning, lovelies!!!

Happy hump day – am I right!? We are half way through the week! And that means I am half way between 22 weeks entering 23 weeks! Wow. 

Time is flying by.

I was looking at pictures of my bump from 8 weeks, 10 weeks, 12 weeks, even 14 and 16 weeks pregnant. To think I had a bump then makes me feel a bit silly. You see, baby girl is finally showing. My bump is not terribly large but her appearance is 100% visible. I would have never thought that seeing my belly expand would cause such a happiness effect transcending in all areas of my life. 

At 22ish weeks, baby girl weighs approximately a pound and measures close to 12 inches. Mama bear has gained 9 pounds to date hoping that it’s all belly and blood volume – though I’m positive I may be expanding everywhere. The anxiety of being miss fitness and miss healthy who dabbles with the aphrodisiac – chocolate, almost daily (did I just admit that?), has moments of low self-esteem because of the changing body I witness in the mirror. But in those moments, which I’m embarrassed to admit, I try to recall the very reason why my belly is poking out in the shape of a small balloon resembling a kiddie basketball. This helps put my mind at ease. I’m not sorry for admitting that it is not easy to embrace new curves. I don’t think this is vanity. It’s reality. It’s our conflict with the permission for the first time in the world consumed with women’s shape and size where we are offered slight amnesty for our hips widening, ass growing, etc. after being brainwashed for 30 years about beauty. It is the most perverse state of ambivalence. Knowing that you’re creating a soul within yours yet being grossly consumed by what is and is not acceptable scripted by the demigods of pregnancy brought to you by American culture. The body shaming is real. Pre-pregnancy, pregnancy, post-pregnancy – it is at all stages where we all look different from each other as well as from our very own selves. And my current different suggests that I’m on a right of passage to motherhood. And it is that alone where I offer up my very own deference – to myself.

I’m able to give myself permission because it wasn’t until I was pregnant that I realized why I am here. To be a mother. To offer my heart unconditionally to a soul that is made of me and my sweetheart. That is euphoric! Speaking of euphoric, the feeling of acceptance is disguised as euphoria from the magic of feeling our baby girl kicking me. It silences all the oddities and anxieties of pregnancy.

That’s right… baby girl is kicking which means this sweet soul is getting stronger! Each night come 9p our little Oriana pokes and jabs me in a series of 3 or 4 quick kicks. She’s getting ready for the track meets! I don’t have the words in my head to describe the feeling of peace she gives me. The entire world stops. The moments are isolated to just me and her. Fleeting moments of just us two. She fills all the holes inside my heart. I never knew how much I needed her. And I equally never knew how much I needed him. My commitment to my partner is renewed each day and with each kick of our baby girl. That high school crush is revived and real. I look at him and I’m giddy. I’m carrying his child 14 years later! I’d never hit rewind other than to relish in those teenage days with my first love when I used to commit the fashion faux-pas of matching my eyeshadow to my blouse. Ha. I may have learned makeup and contouring now, but this love, this love grows. And our love is growing inside to the rhythm of my heart leaving me with so much more love in my eyes.

Nothing, I mean nothing else matters. All the chaos. All the problems of the world. All the problems of my own world. All the annoyances and disturbances. All these things are muted by the miracle that is kicking me – reminding me that I am indeed wonderfully made. Reminding me that my body is capable of so much more than looking sexy in a little black dress. I can’t wait to put on that little black dress by the way. Our baby is teaching me to have patience, kindness, calmness, purity of heart and humor towards my body. For that I am grateful.

I am also grateful that my body allows me to run 22 1/2 weeks pregnant. Cheers to you all for embracing new curves, pregnant or not, and maintaining and active an healthy lifestyle with an active and heathy mind.

Patience is essential while attaining our goals. And my patience has transformed to a 40 week marathon of growing a precious soul.

Thanks for stopping by!

XO

Valgal

The Sweat Life at 21 Weeks of Pregnancy 

4 Jan

Good morning, lovelies!

 

And Happy New Year!!!

 

Oh boy, I mean, oh girl – this is the year we welcome our little baby macaroon into the world! I can’t believe we have already passed the half way mark!

 

I keep stating the obvious – that my energy level is much better in comparison to the first trimester when I didn’t have the inertia to run let alone roll out of bed. This makes me blissfully happy because I feel like myself again.

 
I’m also blissfully happy because I’m finally “feeling” and “looking” pregnant. Even though these adjectives do not have me feeling like myself, the transition is authentically mine – it’s an experience devoid of self-shaming criticisms – at least now. Feeling and looking pregnant has helped me to counter all my prior negative feelings I battled when I looked in the mirror in the early stages of pregnancy. The stage when it looked like I washed down too many bags of gummy bears with Kilt Lifters (one of my favorite beers) creating a softer than sought core…you know, the thickening of the waist without the baby bump…

 

Fortunately I’ve entered the stage where baby girl is making her debut. I have a new roundness that I love and cherish because it’s her – our baby girl! I accept her presence with unabashed alacrity unlike any other challenge or journey I’ve embarked upon.

 

Anyway, baby girl and I had quite the weekend – two phenomenal sweat sessions! Saturday we welcomed 2016 by embarking on a one hour run covering 7.31 miles at an 8:12 pace followed by yesterday’s intoxicatingly addictive cycle class!
Here’s a brief recap of Lava Barre’s VCycle:

 

 

Yesterday I welcomed 21 weeks of pregnancy & celebrated by indulging in a new class of the sweat life – Lava Barre’s VCycle! Holy guacamole! This indoor ride focused on cardiovascular endurance (I got that ✔️), strength and core (baby girl is occupying that) while incorporating weights and a special kind of choreography on the bike 🚴. Newsflash: This mama-to-be struggles with choreography – and they were asking me to add rhythm and move while spinning intensely through the hard resistance on a bike…yeah…that was a sight to be recorded for laughter! Shoot, at one point my right foot came flying out of my shoe that was clipped in! How does that happen?! Although I struggled a bit with some of the moves and laughed at my clumsy ways, I loved every sweat minute of it and with new friends.

 

Pregnancy hasn’t been a breeze but I’m finding that this second trimester really is the honeymoon stage. Baby girl is growing and measures 10.5 inches and 12.7 ounces!

 

I’m determined not to wish away these moments that I’ll want back one day. I’m so thankful for this gift of life I’m carrying and with each passing day I’m moved by how fearfully and wonderfully made I am [all women]. I’m thankful for the gifts bestowed upon me – a healthy baby girl and this body to protect and nourish her.
And there you have it friends – a little tale about my deviation from running for two.
May you all have a blessed week!

 

 

Thanks for stopping by!

 

XO
Valgal and baby macaroon!

Marathon Training – Running for Two

29 Dec

Good afternoon lovelies! I hope you’re having a wondrous Monday so far! I always love Mondays. I believe Mondays set the mood for the week – therefore, if your Monday starts off right, well then I only see smooth sailing, even if the sea gets a little rough. And what work week isn’t a little rough? What after-work hours aren’t a little rough?

 

Discussing rough, I’ll tell you what’s rough – let me introduce you to marathon training. I’ve trained for three marathons and I’ve discovered what it is about them that is rough. It’s not the aches and pains. Nah, those are manageable and kind of dull. It is the patience. There is a whole palette of patience that paints your body and mind with the dramatic hues of hope, despair, rejection, and anticipation that make the journey of the marathon rough.

 

It’s true love though.

 

Anything worth doing is going to be difficult. If it were easy it would lack the artistry of hope and the intensity of the colors of fire. The mental strength to run forward, through the hurt, through your minds rejection, through the lies, through the life you left you behind is the sum of strength that beckons anything is possible.

 

And anything is possible: Having the patience to complete a marathon has nothing on having the patience to accept your changing body so that soon you get to meet your little one.

 

What I have learned training for a marathon has inadvertently carried over to my life between the miles. But most importantly, it has found its way to help soothe me during pregnancy and its encompassing unknowns.

 

I’m quickly learning that marathon training isn’t as rough as pregnancy. What is rough during pregnancy is acceptance of your changing, growing body. I won’t lie – I have cried a few times about my body morphing into something I don’t recognize. I hate to sound vain but I’m here to be honest. I’m hypersensitive to the changes happening to my body because I’ve been training for marathon after marathon keeping my form, abs, ass, legs and arms tone. Now, well now it doesn’t matter. Baby is coming! And I wouldn’t dare do anything to harm my little one with strict eating, new eating regiments, dehydration tactics, hardcore training followed by more training. No. My abs, ass, legs and arms are getting a little less tone regardless because I’m creating a life. My waist is slowly giving way to the growing bump – this I’m excited about! But to say I accept all, emphasis on all, the changes with the gracious glow of pregnancy would be a farce because I don’t. For me, pregnancy is as beautiful and magical as it is a mental minefield. Honestly.

 

I blame the self-absorbed and self-centered culture that poisons the internet stating that basketball bellies for pregnant women, although not the norm, is what should be sought after. Seriously?  How can I control how my baby grows? I would love to have a basketball belly! But I stand all of 5’2”. That’s right a full 60 inches. Baby girl can only grow so far with my short stature and torso thus she will cause me to grow a little wide. This is the problem. Not that I’ll grow wide, but that I’m fed, like other pregnant mamas all this bullshit that if you’re short, you’ll get fat. If you’re carrying a girl, you’ll grow wide and better plan to carry an extra few lbs. Seriously. The internet feeds you bullshit and isn’t even gracious enough to offer up a glass of merlot to wash it down. Gosh I miss wine. Troll the internet and you’ll see copious amounts of literature warning pregnant moms-to-be “How to avoid gaining too much pregnancy weight”, “The skinny pregnancy”, and this should make you chuckle, “How to avoid weight gain during pregnancy.” Yes. These are real taglines. How to avoid weight gain during pregnancy…ya…that’s a winner. What the eff?

 

Anyway, what I was saying is that acceptance is rough. I don’t mind in the least bit my growing bump. I am the most ecstatic about that! To put it simply I feel sandwiched in the nonsense that comes from so many articles about pregnancy and what not to eat, what not to do, what workouts to avoid, what not to drink, etc. The nonsense paralyzes me. And consequently, I become nonsensical – like I have this innate fear that I’ll end up taking on a new shape with similarities to George Costanza – short and stumpy but with hair. I know. I know. I sound foolish but I’m being candid about my illogical concerns.

 

It is because of my illogical concerns that I take to running. Well, it’s not the only reason but running does help to silence the bullshit. Running also helps to make sure George Costanza never appears looking back at me in the mirror…hehe.

 

Anyway, let’s talk about From Chasing Boston to Chasing Baby and running for two in the second trimester.

 

Today I am 20 weeks and 1 day pregnant.  I ran 5 miles today at an 8:11/pace per mile. This is slower than norm for me but hey, baby is growing! It’s beginning to feel that running for two parallels a lot with marathon training. I am forced to go slower and breathe consciously with intent. I have to focus and exercise patience for a slower than normal cadence for hours which leaves me vulnerable to boredom. I am in each moment recognizing each little twitch or discomfort and making a friend with it rather than speeding up and playing with intervals to mask the pain.

 

Little baby girl is teaching me how to run comfortably at a slower than average pace with a whole lot of added weight and pressure in my front section. I used to be able to run 26.2 miles without ever having to take a bathroom break. Running in the second trimester has me desperately seeking a bathroom after only 2.5 miles. The pressure on my bladder from running is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I have to always make a mad dash to the bathroom every 2.5 or 3 miles for relief and then the cycle starts again.

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In addition, the weight of my breasts is getting quite uncomfortable. I know I’m kind of an anomaly – having a breast augmentation or two performed while also trying to run competitively – but again, back to their weight – oy vey! During my runs I find that I’m squeezing my shoulder blades together to ensure I have proper form. It may look as if I’m running with my chest intentionally out to make them all perky  and guess what, I am – so enjoy the view (just don’t jump on the treadmill next to me or I’ll give you a caviling grimace). If I didn’t do this my shoulders would roll forward and my lower back would hurt more than it does.

 

Running in the second trimester has been an easier goal to achieve in comparison to the first trimester. I’m able to fight through the fatigue and make it to the gym. When I get into my rhythmic cadence, I find a source of great strength that helps counter the obstruction of said fatigue and twinges of dull pain.

 

The colorful palette for running for two makes me feels beautiful. It has me marvel at our bodies capabilities to do hard, rough but equally miraculous things. Running for two teaches me to have more patience than I ever knew possible despite marathon training. Running for two gives me hope that I will continue to grow as a person, and with this body and baby, into a person I want to be – a mom. I turn to running because I it helps me become a person who is better, accepting, peaceful and happy.

 

Running was never stale. Running for two proves it never will be. Running for two paints me in a florid of colors I’ve never seen before. The palette of patience paints my body and mind teaching me to love myself unconditionally while I grow this miracle within – just the thought sends an electrical current through my body. The emotional hues of hope, love, and anticipation to meet this little one paint me with naked delight.

 

Running for two is the only journey I know now.

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Thanks for stopping by.

 

XO

 

Valgal and Baby Girl – aka Baby Macaroon

The Anatomy Scan & Baby’s Little Runners Foot

16 Dec

Hello lovelies,

I hope this post finds you feeling as radiant today as I feel! Who knew a little weight gain and a growing belly would have me all jolly and dazzling to match the season! I’m loving these days. But I did not love last Friday afternoon.

Last Friday Afternoon – The Level 2 Ultrasound:  – The Anatomy Scan

I was counting down to December 11, 2015 at 2:30p for weeks. This was going to be the big reveal of little baby macaroon’s gender. Boy. Girl. Either one, it was another day to celebrate! December 11th was going to mark the day where daddy and I get to bond a little bit more to our growing baby *cough cough* my growing belly.

But God had other plans like he often does. And hey, I’m okay with that. But what I’m not okay with is the lack of courtesy and bedside manner that I’ve quickly become aware of from other “first-time mamas” that is the apparent norm for ultrasound techs. (I know this is a huge typecast and I know there are several ultrasound techs that are darling – my first one was! Anyway, I’m sorry if you’re in the profession – I’m sure you’re the exception to the rule. I do not mean to put you in such a box…I’m only speaking from experience.) Newsflash Tech: This is my first pregnancy – could you meet me with some grace?

The Anatomy Scan: Part I

The appointment was at 2:30p. I drank 32 + ounces of water between 2:00p and 2:30p to make sure my belly was nice and full for the ultrasound. 3:00p and we were still in the waiting room. 3:15ish – yup, an “ish” we were walked to room number 2. I desperately had to pee. I was uncomfortable.

We were greeted by the tech. “Hello, so you’re here for the first trimester scan?” Me: “I sure hope I’m not in the first trimester! We’re here for the anatomy scan!” Tech: “When are you due?” Me: “May 15th!” Tech: “You’re two days too early. You’ll have to come back.” The tech lacked any empathy in her tone. She was cold. As cold as the room. Me: “I’m sorry but my doctor advised me I could’ve come as early as Monday. I chose today because today’s my day off. I don’t get maternity leave so I’m being as conscientious with time off as possible. Today fit my schedule otherwise I would’ve been here Monday had I not wanted to be so conservative with time off.” Tech: “I’m sorry, you’re too early.” Me: “No. I’m sorry. We’re here because the doctor said we could be here.” Turn on waterworks. Streams of tears rolled down my face. I wasn’t making a sound but the tears were loud enough for her to hear my disappointment. Tech: “I’ll go check with Dr. Rafael if I can do the scan. I hope you know we probably won’t see gender parts. You’re too early. I’ll be back.”

Me: I thought to myself, homegirl is a bitch. Capital B. Who the f*ck is Dr. Rafael. I glanced at Andy. I could tell he was just as put-off. 5 minutes later the tech returned. Tech: “Okay, lay down. We will do the scan. But again, we probably won’t see anything.” Me: “Okay!” Then I thought to myself that it would be okay if we don’t get to know the gender, at least I get to see baby! Tech: Didn’t even look at Andy who was standing near me and with a dictator tone instructed him to take a seat at the back of the room. Me: I was unable to even see Andy at that point. I thought this tech was a passive-aggressive bitch. Capital B x B. Power tripping fool.

For approximately 45 minutes there was silence. The one question I asked was interrupted by a snarky remark. I figured I’d mirror her lead so I kept my mouth shut. That’s right – Valerie kept her mouth S.H.U.T. The tech didn’t tell us anything. She didn’t say what she was doing, what she was looking at – absolutely nothing. It wasn’t until we were nearing the end of what was the first part of the session when she said, “This is the baby’s brain. This is the baby’s foot.” The tone of her voice was detached and unfriendly.

I thought silently but my face probably gave away my annoyance, “Thanks for the excitement lady! I mean shoot, it’s every day I get to see pictures of my growing baby – thanks for making this moment so remarkable!”

Ugh. Her lack of enthusiasm wanted me to slap some sunshine on her cold ass face and then top it off with glitter and more sunshine. I wanted to triple layer it on. Frostbite doesn’t hit as hard when it has to work through layers. I mean, her cold shell would be bound to emit destruction and I only wanted to slow down the freeze of her glance and bitter tone.

Break

The tech instructed me to pee. FINALLY! Dear god I was holding it like a champ. I wanted out of that cold room and her frosty presence. She also told me to walk around a bit to see if I could get the baby to open its legs.

Whaaaaaaat?

I didn’t know she even saw the legs!!! Why didn’t she tell me? She toggled through screens at such a rapid speed I had missed it.

I returned from peeing and it felt glorious! I then proceeded to dance like a fool for 10 minutes willing baby to wake up and to spread open those little leggies!

The tech came in.

Anatomy Scan: Cold Encounters Session 2

Baby didn’t open legs.

The tech wrapped things up and told us that we would have to come back because she didn’t get images of the heart chambers. She then advised us that perhaps during the next visit they could determine baby’s sex. I asked, “Is baby measuring okay? Like average for gestational age?” Tech: “Yes. The doctor will give you a report later.” She printed off pictures and handed them to us and walked us out.

The End with the Ice Queen

Post-Anatomy Scan

Andy and I walked out. We were slightly disappointed about not knowing the gender but more upset about the ice queen. I left feeling anxious and scared. To not even be spoken to had me miffed. To not be given any peace of mind like, “Baby’s brain is measuring average” etc. I know there are liability issues but there are also medical charts that spell forth what is average. From speaking with other moms I am told that techs can speak a little about measurements especially when they fall in the average range. I was so uneasy and shaken up. The day I was looking forward to with such elation ended up enveloping me with uncertainty. I remember thinking, is she avoiding telling us things because honesty is tough? Oh my gosh, honesty is tough – it’s a difficult pill to swallow. Shoot. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong because there’s news we may be uncomfortable with.

I took to Google.

Shit! Never take to Google. Google is bad. Bad. So. Very. Bad.

I had a whole lot of feeling and I had no clue what to do with it. I crammed a bunch of heavy, ugly news in my mind. Not good.

We called our family to report the news. Gosh were they worried because they expected our phones calls so much earlier. Remember the 45 minute delay and a pregnant girl’s super full bladder who desperately had to pee? Oh yea, I was so doing the pee-pee dance in the waiting room. Did I unintentionally omit that? Anyway, we gave family peace of mind and informed them that we would know the gender soon. I felt like a liar. How could I be giving peace of mind to others when my mind was distressed?

I planned to call my doctor Monday to make a follow-up appointment. Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

Monday

When Monday came around there was another blow. The ice queen said the anatomy scan report was complete. No redo would be ordered. You can’t have an anatomy scan for gender only. I was astounded by the size of this woman’s balls. What a liar! Yes, she was an ice queen but a liar too? I talked to the nurse about my issue with the news. She apologized and said she’d discuss it with the doctor and that they’d call me by close of business. She then proceeded to tell me the results of the scan – Good! No anomalies. Everything is measuring and looking good! Oh thank gosh!!!

I hung up the phone both frazzled and delighted.

Delighted: First thing I thought: Baby is okay!!! What a relief. My heart warmed.

Frazzled: I was frazzled because most importantly, how do the doctors know baby’s heart is okay when there are no images of the heart?  Not knowing the gender wasn’t as pressing.

Monday: Close of Business

5 o’clock took forever but there she was. My doctor was calling me. To save you time the news – we get a redo!!! Commence happy dance. I haaaaaaappppyyyyy daaaaaaanced allllll theeeee wayyyyy hooommmmme!!! I had the sunniest disposition coming home I could’ve melted the ice queen if she took one glance at me. 

Baby Macaroon: Pictures

Until our next appointment I stare at these pictures daily. I haven’t met baby macaroon yet but my how attached I am to this little love nugget. I can’t get over the experience of this little babe growing inside me. I am changing every day. I am appreciative of the things I never knew my body capable of. I never knew I could find peace with growing in size. I’m enchanted by my abilities (and women’s really) to create life.

And this little life, just look!!!  Baby macaroon clearly wants to showcase that s/he will be a runner just like mama! Look at that runner’s foot (Dubbed by my good friend, Bryant )!!! I can’t get enough. These pictures keep my heart at peace.

Wishing your heart at peace, too. Today and every day.

Do you have any pregnancy stories? Do share!

Thanks for stopping by!

XO

Valgal and baby macaroon

Intro – Running for Two: From Chasing Boston to Chasing Baby

4 Nov

Hello lovelies!

Welcome to the newest addition to my blog – Running for Two: From Chasing Boston to Chasing Baby!

Woweee!!! Here I am closing in on the last week of my first trimester. I am 12 weeks and 2 days pregnant with 194 days to go until we get to meet our little macaroon! We are officially due May 15, 2016! I am amazed. Thrilled. Entirely enraptured by the uncertainty of it all!

Upon discovery of being pregnant I scoured through literature about running and pregnancy. I found your typical books with your typical advice: keep your heart rate below 140 (crock of poo poos); go slow; reduce mileage; reduce intensity; etc. [Insert big yawn]

I wanted literature from veteran runners who have been at this very crossroad I am faced with.

Talk about cravings. I was craving literature that wasn’t written and influenced by an aged wrinkly man who hasn’t seen a woman’s anatomy since 1973 unless he google’d the free videos on his phone [cough cough] I mean mega iPad and watched it magnified at the bagillionth degree possible. No. I wanted literature written by, co-written by or edited by elite women runners who understand hormones, fatigue and their own body and how it plays an active or not so active role in their workout regimes during pregnancy – especially for the particular energy-annihilating, ruthless and impetuous hormones that rule over my morning sickness and desire to sleep that is the first trimester.

I was searching for honesty about the sport from women to women. I wasn’t looking for the retro housewife tales of daily housekeeping that dictate I should be a “wife”, cook, laundress, cleaner, dishwasher, nurse and hostess but most definitely not an athlete.

Newsflash: I’m pregnant. I’m in the magical misery of the first trimester where admission for two is wrecking havoc on all of my cognitive functions. How ever does current literature expect me to be a wife, cook, laundress, cleaner, dishwasher, nurse and hostess on top of also being a full-time employee (in a career I’m captivated by), a master’s student and an athlete? Something has got to give and I tell you what – it isn’t the latter three.

Anyway, I found NO substantial literature. Zilch. It all felt outdated and lacking charisma. I am not interested in jogging to keep fit – I’m interested in running to Boston qualify (BQ). Now that I’m pregnant I’m interested in maintaining a routine that will afford me the agility to bounce back to BQ training post-pregnancy. I don’t want a book about “how-to” perform a casual light jogging stroll through the park while (get this) maintaining a low heart rate. Shit!!!! Do you know me? Tell me fro-yo is on the menu somewhere today and I’ll get giddy over adorning my ménage of flavors with sprinkles and gummy bears – that alone will spike my heart rate to 140+! And you want me to take it easy doing a light stroll? Riiiight.  Call me a running snob – a nickname given to me by a good friend but a light stroll doesn’t cut it. I need to sweat from the sport that is running. I’m cognizant that I am pregnant and my body must slow down. I want to ensure I’m being safe with my goals and that’s why I searched for books that broach the topic. I even poured through running blogs and stumbled upon a few I enjoyed which has brought me to write my own.

FRO-YO yummy!

FRO-YO yummy!

So there it is, the long and short of it. I will be blogging about my experiences Running for Two: From Chasing Boston to Chasing Baby. Please note that I am not an expert (no way no how), I am not a dietitian, a nutritionist, a coach etc. I am simply a first-time pregnant 30 year-old woman who wants to share this journey with you in the event you’re as lost as I am. This is simply the truth of my experiences that I am sharing with you. I hope you find that it is amusing, inspiring, relatable, elemental, and conventional. Most importantly, I hope you find this as a source of comfort and unification in knowing that you are not alone in this uncomfortable, awkward, exciting, beautiful, interesting, uncertain transformational experience. I’m right here with ya!

So here we are…we’re pregnant! Congratulations!!!!!!!

Stay tuned for the trials of the first trimester!

Thanks for stopping by!!!

XO

Valgal and little macaroon

From Chasing Boston to Chasing Baby

31 Oct

Hello lovelies!

Typical me, I’ve been silent. Very. Very. Quiet. But that’s only because I have big news. BIG. NEWS.

As of late I’ve been struggling with my running goals and all the aches and pains that are a part of the package. As you know I’ve been chasing Boston. I was only 4 minutes off from Boston Qualifying last October at the Marine Corps Marathon and that was ONLY, stress ONLY, because I had bronchitis. I finished feeling bad to the A double S. I mean seriously, I was badass having had just run 26.2 miles sicker than sick. Talk about a needed rest day starting once I crossed the finish line.

Fast forward to March 2015 when chasing Boston was going to become a reality. The rain was pouring. My training partner, my Newton Distance Elite shoes weighing all of 6.2 ounces, felt like cement blocks as they sloshed through the puddles and absorbed all the water. My clothes added additional weight to my light frame. Having trained in nearly nothing as far as running attire didn’t fare well. I was suddenly carrying extra weight from the wet clothes and my body was working harder than ever exerting extra energy to try to keep me warm from the feeling of the arctic cold. Regardless of the waves of heavy rain and sweat I was flying. Nothing would stop me from chasing Boston and getting that BQ. I marveled at my madness. I was badass. Then I met mile 17. Mile 17 was the mile marker that crushed my dreams for the Boston Marathon in 2016. The crushing sensation of my right hip paralyzed me. I couldn’t hobble. I couldn’t walk. I was at a dead stop. I stood there panicked and frozen. The rain wasn’t a baptism for enlightenment, it was a revelation that chasing Boston would go on a temporary hold. What kind of redemption is that? I didn’t feel renewed or rejoiced. I felt old. Decrepit. Unworthy of Boston because I couldn’t push through the pain. I felt like a loser. My dreams were only 9.2 miles away – chump change really.

After facing the reality that Boston was out of sight I had to face another reality – that my right hip needed some serious TLC from all my neglect. I scheduled physical therapy. It didn’t work. I always heard and felt the crushing sensation and the pop, pop, pop. Surgery was the only remedy if I wanted to chase Boston.  The other alternative was to give up running. Hmmm. No chance. I signed the dotted line obliging to surgery and all the post-surgery recovery shenanigans that promised me a long 6-9 month recovery before I could legitimately run again. Not jog. I mean run. Oy!

I was mentally preparing for the surgery to ensure Boston would be in my future. I was thinking a BQ in 2016 for the 2017 slot was manageable. Sure it’s a lofty goal but if anyone could do it it was me. I am 100% unyielding to hit any benchmark I set for myself. I shortened my distance and revved up my pace. I was running no more than 13.1 miles on the weekend and averaging 6 miles Monday-Friday. The speed came fast. The quicker my speed the more efficient my form which lessened the agonizing pain in the right hip. I felt like a rockstar.

Labor Day weekend arrived reminding me I only had a few weeks left of running prior to the daunting surgery that I often posted about. My partner and I visited my folks in Chicago for this holiday weekend to celebrate my 30th and my dad’s 20th something 30th. After a host of what could go wrong going wrong, our last minute road trip of 12 plus hours through the night had us arrive at their doorstep at 7am. Instead of shaking the fatigue with a nap, I fought the exhaustion by hitting the gym. Hard. I ran 6 miles  at 6:54 average pace. Hot diggity dog!!!

I felt revitalized. I had no pangs of pain. I started stressing that these runs would be few and far between and that all my training efforts would wither away. But I pressed forward maintaining a state of denial that surgery was someday not in 2 short weeks.

Newsflash: 30 and hip surgery … how old am I?

This particular holiday weekend I indulged in martinis, champagne, chardonnay, tequila, oysters, sushi, and everything I love (in moderation). We celebrated my dad’s birthday with mine the only way we know how, with a bang! We even enjoyed a jazz band at a local spot named Andy’s Jazz Club and Restaurant. The coincidence. The energy in the rhythm and blues was exceptional! It was surreal. I buzzed around with a glow all weekend long.

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I was buzzing from a few fast runs, great company, delicious food and a little or a lot of bubbly.

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But was the glow was more than that? After a few indirect jokes that I was pregnant, I decided to find out for myself.

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And what would you know…I was pregnant indeed! GLOWING!!! The test said to wait 3 minutes for results but that positive sign lit up like Rockefeller Center’s Christmas Tree Lighting. It took only a matter of seconds. I was 100% pregnant.

I had and continue to have irrepressible pleasure in knowing that I am going to be a mother. And better yet, a mother to a child with the man who has chosen to forgive me my past and me his, while we breeze forward in the currents of our renewed love. I already felt in the moment of the raw unexpectedness of it all that I was (am) connected to something bigger and better than myself.

I’m trying to put it all into words but I can’t explain how I was feeling. My emotions were high and low.

I was high from the reality of being pregnant with the man that I fell for some 15 years prior. Our journey is one for the books if you haven’t figured it out.

I was low because I just partook in everything you’re not supposed to eat and drink when you’re pregnant. I couldn’t fight the crocodile tears when I shrieked to my mother, “Mooooom, I ate sushi and oysters and oh my gosh I had chardonnay last night!!! Mom, what did I do! Oh no, I even ran, ran too fast for baby…” All kinds of irrational thoughts polluted my mind.

But with a maternal bear hug from my mother who’s eyes-filled with delight, hope, life, love and light, I knew I’d be okay. She calmed my nerves and helped me celebrate again about the miracle that was happening – reminding me of the miracle of life and our journey through it.

To save you from reading on about the emotional bandwagon that I experienced and continue to experience, let’s just say, surgery is postponed for a while (reason for the silent updates on how it went).

I went from chasing Boston to what we now call chasing baby. I might not BQ these next few years but clearly God thinks I’m mama qualified.

It’s funny how we have dreams for plans but we put a cap on them. Bigger dreams unbeknown to us by a greater power trump what we thought was all we could expect from ourselves. I may not be chasing Boston today, but chasing baby sure does sound a whole lot sweeter and gratifying.

So that’s that big news!!!

I plan on blogging my way through what’s it’s like and what it’s been like running for two. Here’s a hint: the first trimester is no joke. Exhaustion X Exhaustion. 20 hours of sleep isn’t enough. Crying crocodile tears because you can’t sing although you knew this your whole 30 years but suddenly having the revelation that you’re as bad, if not worse than Sofia Vergara’s singing a lullaby puts you in tailspain. Vomiting. More vomiting. New development of motion sickness. 9p bedtimes. 8:30p bedtimes.

Aside from all that, let me introduce you to our growing family.

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Our little athlete will debut May 2016.

Our Little Athlete Debuts May 2016

Our Little Athlete Debuts May 2016

Stay tuned for what it’s like running for two!

Thank gosh the first trimester is one week shy of being finito!!! Amen.

Thanks for stopping by.

XO

Valgal and the little Macaroon

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