Running, we have a love/hate relationship. Lately, I’ve been more on the side of hating it. Not the actual act, but what a pain in the ass it’s becoming.
I pee all.the.time. I’m not kidding. Last week I forced myself on the treadmill at home three times. The first two runs (5 and 4 miles respectively) were successful even though I had to stop every 15 minutes to run up the stairs to the bathroom. Note to self, buy house with a bathroom in the basement. The third run, I gave up after two miles interrupted with three bathroom breaks. Though I went for a nice walk with my mom, stepdad and Ella over the weekend, with lots of hills, I did not run. Not once. I didn’t even attempt because I worried I might not make it to a bathroom in a somewhat unfamiliar neighborhood.
I’ve heard the praises of the Gabriella Support Belt, so I ordered one on Amazon. When it arrived I was so excited thinking this was the answer to my bladder pressure problems, but so far I am not impressed. I don’t know if my belly isn’t quite big enough for it to help me out, but aside from it being hot, it makes the bladder problem worse. I tried loosening it, wearing it a little higher, little lower, no win. I’m going to keep trying, but right it’s on the floor in our basement next to the treadmill of torture. If anyone has suggestions for other belts, please fill me in!
Aside from the bladder issue, there are other changes happening. After a full year of constant training, seeing improvement in my endurance and pace, it’s hard to see it moving in the opposite direction. The past two weeks I’ve noticed that I need to again slow my comfortable pace. I’m staring 10 minute miles right in the face and I’ve pouted about it, which I know is silly. I mourn the days of double digit weekend runs and doing crazy sprint workouts, but then I remember that I’ve run almost 8 weeks longer than I did with Ella. I need to stop and appreciate that my body is still working with me.
I set a goal of 20 miles per week which I failed to meet two weeks in a row. Thinking about it now, it may have been wrong to set a mileage goal. With each run I cut short or don’t accomplish, I silently worry that maybe my running days are numbered. Not reaching my goal makes me feel like failure. So I’m changing my goal to 3-4 runs per week, of any distance. It’s time to change my attitude and take each run for what it is, one more run that I’ve accomplished regardless of pace or distance.
I’m trying to remain optimistic that I’ll be running well into my third trimester. Positive thinking can take you a long way.
Now, if I can just get this baby to move up a little bit.