I'm Still Here...

...Someone's just been keeping me a little busy!

All's quiet and going well

The time since Adrian's hernia repair has flown by. The surgery went very well. She actually had hernias on both sides of her abdomen, leaving her with two half-inch "stab wounds" near the point of each hip bone. They're healing nicely and she didn't show much discomfort at all in the days immediately after the surgery.

As soon as I as able to pry my mind away from my baby's health, I had to roll into getting the July/August issue of our magazine finished and off to the printer. We uploaded the files today, which is always a liberating feeling. Production actually went better than expected—primarily, though, because my dad (also our publisher, graphics guy, writer, etc.) did such a great job of taking my disorganized leads and running with them. He really did the bulk of the work on this issue. Just getting away to do my small part felt like such a struggle, but everyone is learning right now. My mom has been great in helping to take care of Adrian for a few hours a few times a week. I have found that getting out of the house and away from the responsibility of caring for her is incredibly important for me. Sometimes I just feel like I'm going out of my skin sitting around the house. A couple hours away and I feel entirely renewed. Adrian came along to the office a couple days this week, too, and did great. So, like I said: We're all learning and adjusting to this new life.

Running is going great, as well. I'm really surprised at how quickly my body has returned in six weeks. I don't feel too far behind the level of fitness that I had at this time last year. I did hit a point where I started losing motivation a couple weeks ago. But getting out for a couple trail runs has helped with the morale. I feel so much more complete and satisfied after running on a trail—both mentally and physically.

Wednesday morning, Tiffany and I went out to Wyandotte County Park Lake to run the 10k Night Run course. We were planning to turn around after running about 35 minutes, but just before that deadline approached I noticed that we were at the "Wyandotte Triangle", the turnaround for the 10k course. So we ran the meandering switchbacks of the Triangle and then headed back, and finished the course in a little over 1 hour, 25 minutes. That was with a pretty conservative, relaxed pace, too, so I think it should be fairly easy to finish a little quicker next Friday. Maybe I won't be coming in after everyone packs up and goes home, after all.

It could be worse

(2007 Running of the Bulls)

Racing the baby

I didn't think I would get the chance to run today, but then Rick came home earlier than I thought he would and the baby was sound asleep in the sling and had been for quite some time. I thought that maybe I could slip the sling off, baby and all, into the crib, pull on some running clothes, go run, and maybe—just maybe—get back before she woke up.

It was fabulously cool (about 75°F) and overcast during the run. Throughout the run, my mind kept flipping back home, and all I could think was that I needed to hurry and get back because the baby was going to wake up. Chances were, in fact, that she was already awake. In the past, she has had a habit of waking up or going ballistic about five minutes after I walk out the door, no matter in what state I leave her: well fed, sound asleep, playing contentedly—it doesn't matter. When I leave, she tries to make her daddy's life miserable.

So today I raced the baby. I worked the hills. I pushed my stride. I rounded the corner in our neighborhood at a good clip and ran up to our mailbox and walked toward the front door, cautiously opening it a crack...then all the way...moving in the entry as if a fully armed commando-baby hid around the corner. It was strangely quiet. I went upstairs and straight down the hall to the baby's room, where the door was still pulled shut—just as I had left it. I looked in her room, and there lay baby Adrian, still sprawled out in her crib and breathing slow and deep—just as I had left her. I raced the baby, and I won!

Inevitable distractions

I am now 5 runs deep into my "training". I know I'm not running enough, but it's tough to get out the door. Adrian has been what most would describe as a fussy baby... and her fussiness tends to peak between 5 p.m. and 9 p.m. (or whenever she goes to sleep, usually between 8:00 and 10:00). Rick's usually only available to watch her after 5 p.m. — which means I have to walk out the door knowing that he's going to be screamed at for the duration of my run. I'm not worried about her; I know I'm leaving her in capable hands. And he's a great and patient daddy. But I hate leaving him with that frustration, especially when it's so much easier for me to just stick a boob in her mouth and keep things quiet and calm.

And now it's even harder to leave. Monday afternoon, Adrian suddenly started full-on screaming. Not her normal fussy cries, but red-faced, eyes-wide-open, panicked-expression screaming. I had just changed her diaper when this started, so I offered her a snack (she refused) and then I retraced my steps back to the diaper. When I took the diaper off I noticed a lump about the size of my thumb on the right side of her pubic bone. The entire area from her groin to the spot where the lump sat was purple-red, and her screaming intensified any time I got near it.

A couple hours later, when the pediatrician could finally see us, the lump had receded... But he confirmed my suspicion that she "likely" has a inguinal hernia. We're seeing a surgeon tomorrow morning. In the mean time, I'm peeling off her diaper and looking for the lump any time she looks at me cross-eyed and wondering if her fussiness these last seven weeks were all because of the hernia.

But there are benefits to having a trainer for a husband. Yesterday he pushed me out the door: "Go run before she starts crying and you don't want to leave. She's fine. You're in training now."

It was a good run. I only covered 2.4 miles, but ran the first mile without walking. It was the first run where I deviated completely from my 2-minute run/walk intervals. I am, of course, abysmally slow. But I know I'm getting stronger. My husband even told me my legs are "looking good" yesterday. I guess that's progress...

Goal Number One

This is me about 11 months ago, taking a little walk break at the turnaround point for the Psycho Night 10K Trail Run. I figured I should slow down to wait for Rick, who can be seen chatting it up in the background there. I didn't want to get so far ahead that he couldn't catch up... I ended up finishing in 1:06.

A month or so before Adrian arrived, I told a few people that I'd like to try running this race again this year. It's August 10, which is also my 28th birthday and our 6th wedding anniversary. Seems like a good way to celebrate. I have no idea whether this goal is doable... Alright, I know it's doable, but there's a good chance I'll be stumbling across the finish line in record-slow time. I guess I'm just not sure whether it's a good idea to try to get ready for a 10K with only six weeks of training, and 12 weeks after having a baby.

All things are possible, though. No matter what happens, at least it gives me a focal point. A little motivation never hurt anyone.

Childbirth and Running

This evening Adrian got to spend some quality, one-on-one time with her daddy... which meant I got to go for a run. The temperature was about 15 degrees warmer than my run yesterday, and I could certainly tell the difference. Of course, I was feeling yesterday's run a little, too. The roads through the neighborhoods were busier, with people driving as if they have the weekend on their minds. It's a good time of year, though, in these days before the 4th of July. It's nice to see families sitting together in their driveways, little kids setting off snakes and smoke bombs. I was surprised to discover that the laughter of a child stirs some sort of warm-fuzzy emotion for me now.

I did the 2-minute run/walk intervals again, and was very happy to have the 2-minute walk breaks. On a couple hills (minor inclines, really), my running pace slowed to a crawl. I'd catch myself thinking, "Go ahead, walk. Then, walk a couple extra minutes while you're at it." But it's important to me that I do everything I can to silence that kind of negative inner dialogue. A few months ago, as I was preparing myself mentally for giving birth, I resolved to bring the lessons I had learned while distance running (and while watching my husband, Rick, tough it out through 100-mile races) into my labor experience: to understand that pain is inevitable, but it's not something to fear, and no matter how tough it gets, there's always a way to take just one more step... and then another step... and so on, until the job is done.

After I successfully made it through an unmedicated labor and delivery, I made another resolution: To bring the lessons I learned during childbirth into my running experience. And there, the number-one point I garnered was to avoid over-thinking the discomfort.

So, today's baby step in the crawl-walk-run process: 2.9 miles in 34:25.

It's a big world after all...

Adrian and I had a big outing today: A trip to Babies 'R' Us and Target. Sad really. For me in my isolated little universe, this was exciting.

It was also a little depressing in other respects. I used to be such an efficient shopper. Get in, get the stuff on the list, get out. No dilly-dally. No impulse items (not usually). Walk straight ahead with your head up and do not make eye contact with the merchandise.

Now, I walk into a discount superstore and my pupils constrict, my mind goes blank, and all I can hear is blood rushing through my ears. Oooh, shiny...

I walk out with more worthless crap than I intended. Even more unfortunate is the fact that when I get home and realize that something I bought—a shirt for instance—does not fit, I look forward to the impending trip during which I will return said worthless crap... so I can buy more worthless crap.

Maybe a little social time is in order. We have an outing planned on Sunday—a birthday party for our friends' 2-year-old daughter. The festivities will be in the early evening. This should get me some much-needed human contact. However, my daughter's favorite pastime these days between the hours of 4 and 9 p.m. is marathon nursing. So I expect to spend most of the time sitting with my shirt hitched up, performing my best impression of a cow. Fun stuff.

I'm itching to get out for my walk today, but there's a steady rain falling outside. I know. What a pussy. Why not go for a walk in the rain? I guess it's more comfortable to stay at home, nurse my baby, and spare my husband the misery of trying to appease a creature that wants nothing but The Boob.

Love,

Bessy

It's Tuesday... right?

Keeping track of the days has been just one of the challenges over the last five and a half weeks. Not knowing the day of the week, the date, even the time of day: It's a feeling I have grown accustomed to.

The cause of this discombobulation lies nestled in the folds of a purple tie-dyed sling as I write. We are both trying to get used to this arrangement—holding and being held while I attend to other everyday activities. Since one major component of my life involves sitting at a computer and employing both hands on a keyboard, I realized it is necessary for my daughter to learn to nurse, sleep, and generally chill out in this sling. That way, she gets what she wants (food, warmth, the sound of my heartbeat and digestive gurgles), and I get to make money.

We can get used to this.