Monday, August 29, 2011

On the Other Hand...

Scary Movie Month is fast approaching, woo-hoo! The Dude and I have been busy laying our plans. I believe I will have to start baking some of my super-healthy, ultra-crunchy, low-sugar cookies again, mmm.

And the Running Is Done (For Now)

It's just too much effort at the moment. Unfortunately walking for longer periods of time hurts my back in a way that running didn't, and for some reason I've felt no urge to go swimming recently. (Probably just the effort of getting and out of a swimsuit. I may look into getting a maternity tankini, one that is actually meant for swimming, as opposed to the one I have from Target from my last pregnancy, which can't have been designed for actual physical activity. Which is why I've been trying to get myself into regular swimsuits, albeit in larger and larger sizes.)

Between work and family this month (and every year at this time, I am so glad August is almost done with) I haven't even been trying to fit in much exercise, but even regular activity is becoming more effortful. So, time to let go of the dream of running throughout my pregnancy, and instead find ways to make walking and swimming more palatable, if not as satisfying. In six months I'll be able to start up again, and hard as it is to believe, those six months will actually move by pretty quickly.


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Elvis is Alive 5K 2011

Last Thursday I ran the Elvis is Alive 5K with my friend R. It was so much fun, and a great way to end my racing season (I'm still running, only no more events for the year). The Dude was right, even with this being a non-competitive, untimed event, I still pushed myself --- first, to run the whole thing without stopping, and then, in the last mile, to pick up the pace and keep it there. And of course, at the very end, to go all out. It is a good thing I let him talk me out of the half marathon I'd wanted to do this month.

R was the perfect running partner for this event. I always enjoy running with her, we run very comfortably together (talking the entire time). But in our previous races, I've been pacing her, just because of where we have been in our training at that particular moment. Making sure to keep an even pace, pushing the pace as I felt she could, checking in constantly to make sure she was still handling it, giving encouragement. And not concerning myself with my time or pace. I get great pleasure and satisfaction out of pacing people in races, so for me it's just a different race experience, not a diminished one.

This time she paced me, doing all those same things. And it absolutely made the race for me. I would have finished without her there, I'm sure, but not with the same pleasure of pushing myself and then the satisfaction of knowing I had. I mean, running is kind of uncomfortable these days, even when it's going well. That whole needing to pee the entire time thing, for one. And I know I was more comfortable pushing myself knowing that she would be with me the entire time and looking out for me, making sure I wasn't overdoing it. I know The Dude had been relieved to know she would be with me for this event, since he knew he couldn't talk me out of it (having already talked me out of the aforementioned half).

And then the party afterwards! I should have mentioned that there were folks dressed up as Elvis everywhere, a treat just on its own. They had an Elvis impersonator providing the music, our recovery fare was beer, watermelon, frozen chocolate-dipped bananas and peanut butter banana sandwiches (plus the usual water, pretzels, and Gatorade), and the whole thing took place on a grassy, tree-lined hill, with the moon and sailboats on one side of us, and the city stretching up on the other. I love living in Chicago!

And now I can set racing aside for myself for the year, and completely set my race focus on supporting The Dude as he gets ready for the Chicago Marathon. Plus maybe a little scheming over my race calendar for next year.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

A Sociology Experiment of One

Pregnancy has a way of, say, "filling out" certain physical attributes that one may or may not otherwise have. In my non-pregnant state I am not especially busty --- broad in shoulders and chest, yes, but my cups, they do not runneth over. I am, however, well-endowed in the hips, butt, and thigh area (good for running, and probably also for weight-lifting, should I ever decide to take that up). And over time I have noticed that the bulk of the male attention I get comes from black and Hispanic men.

Now that I'm pregnant, however? White guys, all the way. I don't think they even notice the growing belly underneath the breasts, or if they do, they don't care. My conclusion from all this: White men like boobies.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Quickest Way To Shut Someone Up

When they say, "Oh, I hope it's a girl," respond, "Thanks, it's another boy." And smile very nicely.

A less common experience than the usual unsolicited input on names, but certainly more rude.