To run, or not to run (that is the question...)

I’ve received a few questions about whether I plan to keep running now that I have the blueberry. I will say that the week after I found out, I was too petrified to run so much as a 100 yards because I was convinced that doing so would somehow jostle the egg loose from my fallopian tubes. However, after Googling my heart out for the better part of week and meeting with my nurse practitioner, here’s what I now believe is true:

Is it okay to be running right now?

Everything I’ve read indicates that as long as you were running (regularly) before your pregnancy, you can continue running while pregnant. Though most women tend to stop running around their 4th – 7th month, it’s usually because of discomfort rather than medical necessity.

Will running harm the blueberry?

If you miscarry the baby, it is nearly always because of a medical abnormality that would have happened regardless of your fitness routine. As such, running is not harmful to the baby.

Still, long runs can’t be that beneficial for you or the blueberry right now can they? Isn’t it better/safer to just stick with 5-milers for now? Perhaps rest a little?

It depends. Any type of exercise can present a risk to your baby. However, it’s not the duration of the exercise that presents an immediate risk so much as it is the intensity (as you want to avoid internally overheating). It is generally recommended that women who are in decent shape keep their heart rates to no more than 130-140 bpm when exercising. However, women in very good physical condition can let their heart rate get up to around 150- 160 without presenting a risk to the baby.

What I did recently was wear a heart rate monitor so I could get a feel for what pace I would have to maintain to keep my heart rate at 155bpm. Even though my normal pace is only about 6mph (10 min/miles), I was surprised how easy it was to get my heart rate up to 160bpm However, I was pleased to see that all I have to do to get it down to an acceptable level is slow down to about 11 min/miles.

I will admit that once I was able to determine how slowly I needed to run, I quickly tore off the chest belt (for the heart rate monitor) because I was absolutely terrified/paranoid about chafing. It also kept malfunctioning (I can only assume it’s because I was running since it worked just fine whenever I walked...and no, it wasn’t a crappy one, it was the standard Polar FS1). So to ensure I keep things safe (I’ve read that my heart will start to pump harder/faster soon and what once felt like 155bpm-exertion may soon become 175 bpm without my knowing it), I periodically check my bpm on the treadmill.

Do you plan to run Long Beach?

Hell yeah. Provided I feel as good then as I do today. In fact, I am planning on doing my fourth 20-miler (for this training program) this Sunday. But that’s not to say I’m not cutting back- for starters, I’m obviously running slower. I also run a lot less mileage each week. I even cut out the planned 22-milers I was hoping to do before this race to build up my stamina (since I never did one before I got pregnant). But most importantly, I plan to continue to ‘listen to my body.’ There have been days where I passed the gym and went straight home to flop down on the sofa and watch Oprah. Last week I did that 3 days in a row.

So at this point my strategy is to continue training for Long Beach, but with a significantly easier training program (as an example, I didn’t do ANY long run last weekend). I also plan to walk off the course the minute I feel out of breath, dehydrated or overheated. While it’s very important for me to be in the race, my priority that day is for me and the blueberry to be snapping pictures at that finish line when my baby daddy passes through.

What’s your plan after Long Beach?

Of course I have no idea how I’ll feel, but my hope/dream is to be able to walk or walk-run my favorite race in early January (a half-marathon in Highland). At that point, I’ll be about halfway along (4.5 months).

Thereafter, my hope is to get back in shape as quickly as possible and resume half marathons. I know being a working mom may not allow me as much time to train for marathons, but I definitely intend to try. If I can’t, there’s always adoption. ;-)

You tell it, Ma!!!

I used to obsessively read and reread every single Laura Ingalls Wilder book as a kid. I dreamt of being transported back in time so I could visit the Ingalls family- after scampering around the prarie all day with Lil' Half Pint, Ma would call us to a delicious supper of salt pork before Pa would break out his fiddle and we'd all sing deep into the night. And to thank the Ingalls for their wonderful hospitality, I would reward each of them with their own piece of hard candy and a shiny brown penny for each of them! I might even throw in a good a** whuppin' of mean 'ol Nellie Olsen to seal the deal! But perhaps one of my most vivid memories of the book are when Ma cautions a young Laura against vanity and teaches her the expression "Pride goeth before a fall."

Coincidentally, it's a lesson I seem to have to learn TIME and TIME AGAIN.

You see, for the first 6 weeks of this pregnancy, I've happily skated along. I was continuing to run long distances (albeit slower/flatter) and felt great. I hadn't gained an ounce. I didn't need more than 6-7 hours of sleep a night. And I didn't have a single craving. I was smug, confident and upbeat. The little blueberry and I couldn't have coexisted more peacefully together. In fact, I soon convinced myself (and everyone around me) that this was most definitely attributable to my good physical condition, my healthy diet, and my overall wit and charm. I just couldn't help it- God loved me. So I was quite certain I was going to have a symptom-free pregnancy!!!

Pride goeth before a fall, little half pint!

Soooo....yeah. You can all stop chortling now. I've barely worked out the last week and a half. I've been eating obsessively. I have become progressively more constipated (no worries, I've kept my feet firmly planted on the ground in public restrooms). My chest throbs and aches constantly. On Saturday, I developed my first serious cold in years. And yesterday, I developed a metallic taste in my mouth.

So once again, I have been appropriately humbled. And I'm more than a little peeved. Hath God forsaken thee?! It's been very difficult transitioning from being a dedicated long-distance runner ("Tee hee...I'm still running Long Beach!") to being a listless, lump on the couch with tortilla chip crumbs stuck to my tattered nightgown.

Tonight I've made a committment though, and it's that while I'm going to get the necessary rest, seriously throttle back on the workouts, and consider bowing out of Long Beach (this will be hard)- I will NOT allow my fears and anxieties to essentially piss away years of hard work. In fact, to coin the words of a very wise ex-Grammy-winning-former reality-show-diva-possible-crackhead-junkie-divorcee (Whitney Houston)- ooooh heeeell to the no!!! It just ain't a gonna happen, folks...

Introducing...our blueberry!

Surprise! Yep, we're expecting! The baby (currently the size of a blueberry, hence, it's name) is about 7 weeks old. In summary:

-Yes, the baby was planned.

-Yes, Roy is my baby daddy (since the little blob in the black circle to the left is obviously white). Whew.

-It took us one try. And yes, Roy is quite pleased with himself and trying to take all the credit. He's been grabbing himself down there for weeks now. Joseph has suggested farming him out to sperm banks for some extra cash since he obviously has such strong swimmers...but I take great offense that everyone automatically attributes our success to his swimmers and conveniently overlooks the superior suction action (I'm like a Kirby vaccuum cleaner!) my fallopian tubes had in all this.

-I haven't had any major symptoms yet... No nausea, exhaustion, cravings, etc. However, I have noticed that I've already gone up a cup size (whoo-hoo! So this is what an A cup feels like!!!) and my belly button is rapidly disappearing (where it's going has got me...).

-We had our first prenatal visit last week. As I laid down on the examination table I happened to notice two sets of drawers. The top one said 'small/medium speculums' and the lower one said 'large/extra large speculums'. Though I'm still not entirely sure why I did this- right before my practitioner reached down to open a drawer, I tightly squeezed my eyes, said a quick prayer, and halelujah- she opened the top drawer. Whew. Because as many of you already know- I can handle being big boned. Broad shouldered. Thick calved. Chubby thighed. However, what I cannot handle is being 5'3 and requiring the same speculum that is also used for large, hairy female gorrillas. So (wink wink) at least I'm petite where it matters. ;-)

To the hills!

Sorry I have been largely absent the last few weeks. We're heading up to the mountains for the weekend, but I promise I'll have a really good explanation once we get back!

Warning: Running-related babble ahead

Last night I went out to dinner with some friends when one of them made the mistake of asking about my running. That was all the invitation I need to start the subtle bragging and obligatory fake-modesty (you runners know what I'm talking out, yeah you do...)- "So I did a 20-mile run this morning. It was nothing though, really... I mean, especially since [yawn] I have 22-miler coming up in 2 weeks..."

My friend also pointed out that whenever he overhears runners talking at the gym, that they always seem so intense, passionate and obsessive. I was about to jump in about how I snicker everytime I go to a race and see all the manic runners warming up, intently checking their Garmins, closing their eyes to get into their zone (I tend to be more focused on what I'm going to eat afterwards)...when it occured to me that even though I'm not intense, competitive or fast, I'm probably equally annoying. Because whenever I do bump into a runner at the gym- we stand at the machines and loudly jaw for 20 minutes straight about our latest runs, gear, nutrition, form, goals, injuries, recovery, upcoming races and heartbreak. And we do this all the time.

Yesterday's 20-miler really was one of the most pleasant runs I've ever experienced. Don't think I've taken myself to the next level/broken any ground though. There's a reason for this- and it's because I ran slow. VERY, VERY SLOW. For the first time ever, I wore my Polar heart rate monitor on a run (wouldn't do it again...the strap kept jostling and screwing up the reading and I was petrified of chafing straight through to the bone so I took it off after 6 miles of crappy readings) to try and keep my heart rate below 155 bpm. I did this because I wanted to see if it would have a noticeable effect on my endurance (i.e. - essentially pacing myself to see if I could go further or longer).

So here's what I learned today...

• Initially, I didn't think keeping my heart rate down to 155 bpm would be all that difficult since my plodding shuffle certainly doesn't look exerting. However, I was wrong. So my first lesson of the day? It's really hard to keep your heart rate below 155 bpm no matter how slow you are. Though it was hard to run so slow, I believe I was able to prolong my endurance. Because when I was done with the 20, I probably could have done another couple miles. A longer training run might have been exciting, but still not worth messing with Long Beach.
• Lesson number two- when the weather cools down suddenly and unexpectedly, remember to drink less water. Like my chubby legs, my pea-sized brain cannot switch gears all that swiftly, so I continued to hydrate like it was 85 degrees instead of 75 degrees. As a result, I had to take three detours to the bushes y'all...THREE. And all in suburbia. It's much more difficult to hide your bare, dimpled a** amongst all the Volvo wagons and manicured yards than in bushes and ditches filled with plastic bottles and cans along the road.
• Lesson number three- people lack compassion. Because I had to have looked near death as I slowly shuffled along covered in grime and sweat, tears pooling in my eyes, I assumed that surely, at least one person might ask me if I was okay, offer to call me an ambulance, give me a lift or perhaps even offer me a hit of speed. I got nada. Instead, I was nearly run over in the crosswalk twice. The first time was truly harrowing. I was probably 4 inches from becoming roadkill (if you're ever first on the scene when this happens...I recommend that you go for the thigh meat, it's marbled, juicy and tender). I even yelled at the driver (very unusual for an Asian, even moreso when you're a paranoid chicken on top of that).
• The final lesson was really more of a reminder. And it's that running may have started out as way to lose weight, but it's long since become 'that thing' I do now when I need to feel proud. For some people, it's playing with their kids and seeing that sparkle in their children's eyes. Or baking a beautiful, tiered birthday cake for a sick neighbor. Or taking out their sweet ride and detailing/buffing it until it sparkles. For me, it's what I do whenever I'm beat down and have eaten way too much all week and feel frustrated, powerless and sad. Because once I'm done, I feel rejuvenated, fierce and empowered. Ready to kick a** and take over the universe.

Quick Thoughts

Sorry I haven't posted much recently, but I've been busier than usual.

• I have a 20-miler planned for this Saturday, and lordy lordy do I need it. Aunty Jo needs a good long run soon so she can feel alive again.
• I am now absolutely determined to complete one 30-mile run in my life. Just to prove to myself that I can. It is my destiny. I will be an ultra marathoner. Even if just for a day. If I can run 26, I can run 30. And if I can run 30, I can run 35.
• Long Beach is just a few more long runs away! The taper is finally in sight! Hell yeah! I also believe I have a fair shot at being able to break the 4 1/2 hour barrier this time. This is because I have more confidence, can pace myself better, the course is flatter, I'm doing longer runs (20 milers), and most importantly- I have switched from Power Gels to Clif Bloks with caffeine. I CANNOT WAIT.
• And finally, I cannot f**ing believe the crap Britney is taking for being 'out of shape' and 'overweight.' PLEASE! The girl looked FINE. Spacey, drunk, and a little disoriented- but otherwise fine. So she's not a size 0 or 2 anymore! So friggen' what? Because I tell you what- she still looked a hell of a lot better in that bikini than I would. Trust me on that one (think bad tan lines, disproportionately chubby thighs, stretch marks, paunchy gut and running scars). Go ahead and attack her for not getting help for her issues and possible drug/alcohol abuse. Attack her for showing us her hairless crotch each week. Attack her for taking her babies out to dinner at 10pm. But please please please leave her post-baby body out of it. I've never been a Britney fan, but I am a woman who doesn't need or want to read about how disgusting she looked because she's 10-15 pounds 'overweight.' Bastards!

San Francisco...where hippies thrive

Pretty, pretty San Francisco...how I love thee.

-On Saturday I did a short 10-mile run before showering and walking to the Ferry Building to enviously gaze at all the colorful, organic produce. Later, Joseph and I met Jonathan at Cafe Gratitude (I forced Joseph to leave the spam musubis I brought him at home...but he still insisted on stuffing a few slices of deli meat down this throat as he walked out the door). For someone who claims not to eat or like raw vegetables, he still managed to run up a $30 tab by himself. I have to say, the food was delicious, but it was definitely an ah...interesting experience for the palate. I mean, I loved it and I'd definitely go back, but for the most part, everything was some variation on a salad.

-On Sunday Joseph and I did a 10-mile morning hike along the Coastal Trail from Golden Gate Park to Fort Funston's lookout point. While on the trail we passed no less than 3,000 dogs. Big dogs, small dogs, hairy dogs, ugly dogs, cute dogs, disabled dogs, drooling dogs and of course- dog shat. I wonder...how do dogs manage to crap without the aid of tp or Cottonelle wet wipes? For me, even with the added protection of fur, I'd chafe like a mo'fo. I give dogs credit. Because even with all the water and fiber in the world, I can't say I have the talent of depositing neat, solid chunks that do not require hours and hours of wiping.

Thankfully, none of the dogs were in heat (although Joseph did get to enjoy one ball sniffing). After our hike we inhaled the most delicious greasy-a** burgers/fries at Darla's, had a quick nap, and then walked about 2.5 miles to meet Jonthan and Sarah (crazy, crazy trail runner training for the Trans Rockies next week...Go Sarah!) for dinner at Chow's (in the Castro district). I thought we'd bump into Linds or Brit (with one or two of her dirty-diaper filled tots) while we were there, but I found out that's Mr. Chow's in LA, not Chow's in San Francisco. Der. Guess I'll just have to catch them when I roll into Pure this weekend with my boy Kanye instead.

-On Monday I woke up and went for a slow, meandering 3-mile walk in the neighborhood and ending up finding a Farmers Market (went nuts there) while waiting for Joseph to wake up. Once he did, we ate at a funky Bohemian cafe for lunch and sat and had coffee at Martha & Bros. in the Haight district before walking over to the Golden Gate Bridge and back. To get there, we walked through the beautiful Presidio neighborhood, Cow Hollow, and the Palace of Fine Arts (that place is really falling apart, man...they really need to just knock it down and rebuild that price of crap). Yes, I'm being sarcastic. While at Crissy Field I also checked out my first Sports Basement. Loved it! As much as I make fun of all the North Face/Columbia crowd...I'd so love to be one. I just need to prostitute Roy at the hospital for more overtime in order to afford that stuff.

So over the course of three days, I covered...44 miles! I've had three people, three 'friends' tell me that this is kinda manic. It didn't feel that way, but I can see how one might think it is. I still haven't run since Saturday's 10-miler (trying to help the knees and shins heal) so I'm getting increasingly paranoid, but I know it's the right thing to do. And like most 'right things to do,' it sucks a**. So the jury's still out on whether or not I should do this week's scheduled 20-miler.

Need help plowing?

I was born during the Year of the Tiger, but I'm thinking after this weekend, I should have been born in the Year of the Ox. Because that's what my sturdy man calves are as strong as- a team of oxen.

This morning I got up at 6 and hit the road running around 7. Just like last time, I ran through the Panhandle and Golden Gate Park down to the coast. This was only 10 miles (still challenging for me given the hills...because for me, anything longer and more elevated than a speed bump is considered a hill), but I wanted to keep my long run mileage low this week for three reasons:

1. I ran 20 miles last week Sunday, and granny's knees still feel a little tender.

2. About 2 weeks ago I started to develop a dull ache in my right shin bone. It's now on the left side too. It feels a lot like shin splints. :-( I've been too lazy to ice/tape them, but I'm not even sure that will help nearly as much as resting would... I'm just fearful of doing so since Long Beach is only 6 weeks away! (I need to be held right now. I don't want another repeat of LA.)

3. I didn't want to come up here and be obsessed with a long run, I came to chill out and have fun!

So right after I finished this morning's run (I'm too embarassed to share my time as it may have been quicker to walk...or crawl), I jumped in the shower and then walked up to the Ferry Building. I chose what I thought would be a safe route that was preapproved by Joseph, but he failed to mention the dozens of scary, jittery crack addicts I would encounter along the way. Even when I confronted him about it later, he shrugged and said I wouldn't have had to worry because 'they're so damn sick and weak you could easily take 'em out.' Now I'm not exactly sure how a short, slow female runner translates into being able to kick the a** of an angry, paranoid, strung out, urine-soaked crack addict- but I guess it didn't matter anyway, since no one gave me so much as a second glance. I'm not sure if it's because of the fierce scowl I gave every single person that looked remotely dirty or smelly, or the fact that I looked even more haggard and poor than them (I'm not what one would call a 'girlie girl' even on the best of days), but I did just fine all by myself.

Once I got to the Ferry Building I elbowed my way past all the hippies with their woven baskets full of organic figs and dates and headed straight to the booth I went to last time to get another $6 container of braised tofu with chili paste/sesame oil. I ended up getting tofu in sesame oil, lemon juice and cilantro instead, along with a few organic peaches for lunch. I have to admit I felt a bit smug eating my tofu and peaches in the middle of Union Square among all the Burger King-eating and Nordstrom-shopping tourists.

Once I finished, I decided to walk home even though Joseph said he would pick me up on his way home from work, so I ended up walking another 7 miles, for a total of 17 miles! Definitely oxen material.

I'm meeting Jonathan again for dinner tonight, but this time at Cafe Gratitude- an all raw, vegan, organic restaurant (which I'm NOT mentioning to Joseph until AFTER we get there). This is because his only two requests were that A) they have meat (tee hee), and B) they have booze (whew!!! I'm hoping he doesn't notice that it's organic, hippie beer).

On the way back from my walk today I also stopped off at Trader Joe's so I could stock up on mini whole-wheat bagels, Tofutti cream cheese (no dairy! no fat!), and organic bananas for tomorrow's big hike. This is part of my strategy to distract Joseph from the details of tomorrow's hike. This is because once again, I'm having to fib to him a wee bit on the specifics. This time his only two requests were that the hike be A) not too long (it's 9.5 miles...one way) or hilly (I hear mountain goats pass out on sections of the trail). He's already warned me that he's bringing cab fare and his flask in case I've lied to him, so there's a strong likelihood we won't be able to do the whole 19-miles, but a girl can dream, right?

Peace, love, granola, yogurt and recyclable bags,
Josie