Before I got pregnant, I was in the best shape of my life. I was exercising every single day without fail, I was reasonably kind of okay with my body, and I felt really good. I had visions of running into my 5th month of pregnancy, but I crashed and burned towards the end of my first trimester. I was just so tired! So I took a break from... which turned into an extended leave of absence. I still walked a lot, right up until the end, but I just couldn't find the energy for running.
Towards the end of my pregnancy I started getting really excited to start running again. The weekend before Bean was born, I bought a gigantic running bra and some bigger running pants so that as soon as I got the okay from my doc, I could start pounding the pavement again.
I couldn't wait, though... 4 weeks after my C-section, I went out for my first run. It was a pathetic disaster. I had bargained with Husband for the okay to do 3 miles. I thought 3 miles would be nothing. I set out for my first paces and got a huge grin on my face. Ah running, how I had missed you. About 60 seconds later, I was huffing and puffing with burning lungs. That day, I only ran about a mile, and my lungs didn't recover for about 20 minutes. This was far more disheartening than I would have thought. Throughout the summer, I only went running occasionally because it was just too sad to struggle so much for such short distances.
But now, with renewed resolve, I am committed to fighting the good fight, to getting my body (almost) back. To avoiding pleated, acid-washed Mom Jeans. I've hooked up with a friend and have made regular running dates. I'm committing myself to 20 minutes on the elliptical each night to get my lung power back. And last night, I did my first post-partum crunches.
It turns out that having your abdominal wall stretched beyond what you ever conceived possible is maybe not so good for your tummy muscles.
Brief Detour for Despair
23 hours ago