Saturday, October 24, 2015

Motivational Running Quotes for Women and New Runners

Races are like childbirth.
Your body prepares mentally & physically
for the long journey.
No one can explain
the emotions you'll
feel when you reach
the finish line.
You will forget the pain
and will do it all
over again.

You only get one first race
Forget about everyone else.
This is YOUR race.
YOUR moment.
Take it all in and reflect on all that
you've accomplished to get to this point.
Run your pace.
Run  you race.
There are some people who live
in a dream world,
and there are some who face reality;
and then
there are those who turn one
into the other.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Morning Moments

Anyone who knows Little Dude, knows that he is constant, constant, constant.  He is always thinking and always on the go.  He's loud.  He's chatty.  Sometimes obnoxious.  He doesn't always make the best choices.  But, he's bright.  He's inquisitive.  He thrives off of routine.  The kid doesn't stop until it's time to read at 8:00 and then he crashes no later than 8:30.  After that, he's out - all night.
But, there is a side of Little Dude that not everyone gets the opportunity to see.   Like I do.
My early bird wakes up daily between 5:30-6:00 and comes to visit me.  He crawls on my side of the bed backs up into me and wraps my arms around him.  We cuddle under the covers until the alarm goes off.  No matter how tired I am, I enjoy these thirty minutes far more than any other part of my day.  And as he gets older, I enjoy these precious moments even more.  Especially lately.
He rolls over and touches my face, traces the outline of my profile, runs his fingers through my hair.  And most recently, he puts his hands on both sides of my belly and whispers to his sister.  She's usually awake in the early morning hours and pokes him right back.  He gets a kick out of it and giggles. He whispers random questions to me that pop into his head.  He asks me to scratch his back with my fingernails.  The coffee pot goes off just after 6:00 and the dog wakes up and jumps into our bed, too.  Little Dude sits up and pets the dog over and over and begs the pup for morning kisses.
It's this gentle, quiet side of my son that few rarely see.  I am so thankful for these precious moments that he chooses to share with me.

Hospital Bag - CHECK

One more thing was crossed off of the to do list this past weekend.  My hospital bag was packed for December.  I had to laugh after the whole five minutes it took for me to stuff the suitcase and zip it up. 
Twelve years ago, I packed my first hospital bag, with the impending arrival of Little Diva in December.  I made a list, checked it one, two, three, (more!) times.  I packed cute matching pajamas and comfy socks, I shaved my legs at the hospital, and I remember that I packed tall, black high-heeled boots to wear home with blue jeans and a blouse.  I wore full makeup every day at the hospital and I even packed my hot rollers.  I remember sitting with the newborn near my bed, while I rolled my hair in rollers eight hours after she was born.  The nurse walked in and asked what I was doing and I told her this was my morning routine.  She must have thought, "Man, is this girl's life going to change".  And it did.
On to my third child and a lifestyle change in every which way, I am more comfortable in my skin and more comfortable being ... well, comfortable.  This time, I packed a hairbrush, some elastic hairbands, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, two pairs of sweatpants, some race shirts, a pair of leggings and some new nursing bras, the baby book.  I made a short list of things to throw in in a pinch:  the camera, chargers, the car seat and yes - my makeup bag for a little touch up.
It literally took me five minutes to throw everything in.
I'm less concerned this time about how I will appear to visitors.  How I will look in pictures.  I just want to be comfortable and content and enjoy those precious moments.  All that matters is that when that little girl looks into my eyes; that she bonds with her mommy, recognizes my voice and feels safe and comfortable in my arms.

Friday, October 16, 2015

Gestational Diabetes

With baby #1, I was diagnosed in September 2003 at 28 weeks with gestational diabetes.  I gained about 40 pounds with that pregnancy.  With baby, #2, the doctor tested me early on in the pregnancy, at 12 weeks.  I was diagnosed in June 2007 with gestational diabetes again.  That pregnancy seemed long, having to manage my blood sugars for 28 weeks.  I gained 46 pounds with baby #2.
With my current pregnancy, I was optimistic.  I have drastically changed my lifestyle over the past decade.  I started moving.  I started running.  And I generally eat a pretty well-balanced diet.  As a runner, I love my carbs.  But, I also eat a tons of fruits and vegetables.  I've run ten marathons since Little Dude was born and have close to fifty half marathons under my belt.
Due to my history, I was tested early on again, around 12 weeks.  My doctor was enthusiastic to report that my blood sugars were very, very good.  At every appointment during the second trimester, she told me to keep running and doing what I'm doing.  During this pregnancy I ran a full marathon as I entered my second trimester and also completed a few half marathons along the way.  I am still running smaller distances and plan to run/walk a 15K this weekend.
Last week, was the milestone 28 week mark, where every pregnant woman tends to complete their glucose tolerance test.  I was excited to get this done and over with and move on to the third trimester.  I downed the sugary, orange drink and showed up at my clinic's lab one hour later to have my blood drawn.  I waited overnight for the results and last Wednesday morning I received an early morning phone call from my doctor's office with the results.  I have gestational diabetes.  Again.
So .... I was deflated.  I cried an ugly cry. I sobbed.  I had a little pity-party for myself for all of five minutes.  It didn't help that my grandfather was passing that week and I spent many emotional hours surrounded by family at the hospital.  Later that night, I would visit him one last time, head downstairs to a breastfeeding class, and then find him later forever sleeping in his hospital bed when I returned.  It was an emotional week.  I have a feeling that I would have cried tears of sadness or tears of joy either way - regardless of the outcome of the glucose tolerance test.  But, I felt like I had lost all control over my body.  I had been in control up until that point. I moved my body and kept up my physical fitness as best I could.  I listened to the doctor.  I've ate pretty well and gained a manageable 22 pounds thus far.  However, the doctor said that there is just something "in" me.  Something in my genetics.  Something that I couldn't "out run".
So here I am.  With gestational diabetes for a third time.
Within the hour, I headed to the grocery store and loaded up my cart with several of my low-carb or no-carb favorites and vegetables, lean turkey meats, eggs, some cheese.  I had always been able to manage gestational diabetes through a balanced low-carb diet.  So, I was taking the bull by the horns and taking control.  Now.
My doctor's office got me in with a dietitian that afternoon and we reviewed a new food plan for me, which includes three meals and three snacks throughout the day.  Honestly, I have been eating so much more protein than I normally do, that I have been skipping my snacks - especially in the evening.  I feel full and satisfied.
I also received a new monitor and was instructed to take my blood sugars four times daily.  Again.  I've been able to manage my numbers within the suggested range.  It's not painful or difficult.  It's just annoying to be on a schedule with yet another thing in my life. 
However ... I know that this little girl will be worth it.  It's only 2 1/2 months - give or take.  It should go away again once I give birth.  Things could be worse.  My baby girl is healthy, growing daily inside of my expanding tummy.  She's healthy.  And I am healthy.  Just because I have gestational diabetes, doesn't mean that I'm not healthy.