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.
In Which I Am Called Mrs. Scientist Again...
4 days ago