Tomorrow, it must not rain.

...tomorrow I will once again attempt to ride at Kettle. After last week's fail, this better work. (There's room in the car for 2 more if anyone wants in.) Still, I've been on trail at least once a week all month, so no complaints. Most years it's too wet all of April.

Completed my 15mi running this week, so it's a weekend of FUN workouts. Since I didn't run this morning, Ben and I took Molly to the park and threw a ball around for her instead. We more often hold hands while walking lately, it's disgustingly cute.

Someone asked me why I'm not officiating this summer. Short answer- a few things have changed since last year, so now it's even less fun. I'd be willing to help out in WI/IN if need be, but I have no interest in IL.

Goal setting works.

As in, telling myself that my goal is running 15 miles a week, doing the yoga and prenatal workout dvd once a week each, plus at least one or two sweet trail rides a week... it's actually worked. I have a little tracking chart on the fridge that I fill in, and I've hit my goals every week. Not that the goals are lofty or anything, they're just do-able AND motivational enough to get me out of bed in the morning.

I managed to get out to Palos this week with Erica and Jen. It's quite nice. Wet only in the splooches. Some parts of the trail are really rutted, widened to 5'+, and bad. If I find out who's been riding them wet I'm going to be throwing some serious facepunches.

Weekend semi-fail.

Saturday morning, we called the trail hotline at 8am. It said, "Trails are open, but if it's actively raining, please don't ride." Taking that as a done deal, we loaded up and left Chicago around 9am, 2 cars, 7 people. When we got to the trail head, there was a big red CLOSED TO BIKERS sign. We called again. They had closed at 9am. We hung out for 2 hours hoping that, since it wasn't raining, things would change. We drove home with stops at Woodmans and Pita Inn. Erica calls it a 4 hour beer run, but really, we did have a good time.

Sunday Ben and I went to run errands, which ended up meaning going to the Half Acre brewery and 2 liquor stores. At Half Acre we picked up the bomber bottles of stuff that wouldn't come back. Then, the liquor stores. The MO was pretty funny. We'd walk in, he'd say "she can't drink for 5 more months, what can we get now that we won't be able to get then?" The worker would look directly at my not-yet-there belly, then look confused but still say congratulations, then point out 2-3 things that would not return- oddities and limited runs. We have two boxes full of the stuff in a closet now-- Big Hugs, barrel-aged deliciousness, that sort of thing.

We got a bomber of Gavroche, a French sour red ale for my birthday. One of Adam's, the North Ave Sam's Beer Guy's, finds.

I bought a Wii last week as a birthday present to self, and Ben bought the Fit as my bday present. It's been superfun. Friday, Jacob and Al came over and Jacob kicked our butts at tennis and ski jumping. Saturday I decided to try all the other fit "workouts" and had yet another experience of "this is how out-of-shape Americans are?" Man, only one of those activities was even nearly difficult for me.

Either way, aside from the tandem ride to brunch Sunday, no riding this weekend. I have a score to settle with those trails now, and I'm ready to take a day off work this week if that's what it takes. Otherwise, Saturday...

Nostalgia.

I was listening to Hot Rize on the way to work this morning, missing the Birchmere. Then something about the music reminded me of the Rose River trail I used to love in Shenandoah National Park, and then I remembered sitting in the grass on the banks of some random river in the middle of Iowa in the shade of huge trees having a quiet lunch during RAGBRAI. I miss quiet times in the middle of nowhere. I'm wondering if it's something with the hormones making me think of all these random singular things that I clearly can't have right now. Or maybe it's that work's a bear, running is slowing down, riding is the slowest in years, and I'm in bed by 9pm every night.

I'm hoping we can ride some trail this weekend. Always the optimist, I have plans with groups for both days. Hoping. Hoping. (also: hoping to remember to fix that slow-leak I have on the rear tire before loading up tomorrow... must. remember.)

I ran 15 mi so far this week, steady. I felt strong today, but I have my days, for sure. Usually about 2 mi in something in the belly settles in and I suddenly have the urge to pee. I get jealous of Molly- she can pee anywhere she wants! - and the worst is when I have to pee and she stops and does it. Bitch. But as for the workouts, I'm hoping I can just keep going. Every week that passes and I'm still out there running is a really, really good thing. This morning I had a slight panic when I realized that my size M running knickers (no, not that kind of knickers) were stretching quite a bit to fit the belly, and I wondered if the morning sun at certain angles was giving passers-by a view of my butt that would be less than G-rated. I meant to ask Ben when I got home but totally forgot. (Ben, if you're reading this, remind me to put my running knickers on and hand you a flashlight.)

me + 7

So, I weighed myself this week. Haven't in a while. 7 pounds up from where I stared. Which, I guess, isn't that bad for how far along I am. But just thinking about it...
Even at 7 lb up from my off-season (aka cross season) weight, I'm still 14 lb lighter than I was in summer of 2006. So i guess I should have clothes that fit me somewhere? Yeah, right.

As an early birthday present-to-self, I bought a Wii from Kisha. It's superawesome, but I had no idea how expensive games are. For now we just have Sports. My shoulders and arms are sore from the boxing game. Molly hates the thing too- barks at the controllers.

Running 4's this week, along with the yoga dvd and the HAC women's intervals tonight. Looking forward to a little trail this weekend. Running and riding, nothing to complain about.

Love your ride.

I sat out for the Flatlandia Kermesse on Saturday. Instead, I drove the lead car for the women's race. With the 1/2/3 combined with 4's, the field blew apart quickly. By our first turn to the North, just a few miles in, there were just 4 cat 1/2/3 women behind me, and that's the group I led for the next 60 miles. Never saw any of the other women until after the finish.

Sunday, though. Sunday was MY ride. After I put in a 4m run, Julie and Sarah picked me up and we were on our way to Palos. It was perfect. Not too much trail traffic, dry but not dusty, warm enough for short sleeves but cool enough that I wasn't worried about overheating. I had so much fun, I felt 10x stronger than last time. Sarah likes to huck off every little ledge she finds, Julie's a superstrong climber, and I just shout "weeeeeeeeeeeeeee" the whole time. It was a great group. We rode the best of Palos and it was just enough to get my legs a little bothered. Julie's riding the Cohutta in TN this coming weekend- good luck!- so of course the ride was nothing for her!

Those hours in the woods were just what I needed, though. Erased the frustration of the week in El Paso and reset my brain to notice the spring that I love. Hoping the weather will let us do it again next weekend... perhaps at Kettle.

Once again, overthinking it.

I have this problem recently, where all I can think about when I'm running is the run itself. How fast I'm going, how I'm feeling, whether I'm panting, whether I'm pushing too hard, whether I'm pushing not hard enough. It's a curse, a gosh darn curse. It's like, pregnancy slows you down, which makes you feel slow, so you push to go faster, but you shouldn't, so you don't push, so you feel slow, so the whole time you're in this odd balance. I think about it too much and it's made running less fun.

I've been running on Edgemere Blvd, this little flat path in the median that's just short of 1.5 mi one-way. The whole way out the sun's in your eyes. It's really annoying. The etiquette on this trail, I've learned, is to say "morning!" and wave hello. But I can't manage to look up because the sun will scorch itself into my eyeballs, so instead I sort of just grunt. Yes, that's right-- El Paso people are friendly, that Chicago outsider is a big jerk.

Actually, I have found this to be the case. In stores, in parking lots, where-ever, the people of El Paso will look you in the eye and give you a heartfelt greeting, as if they really mean it when they say, "have a great day." I find it rather uncomfortable. I'm most comfortable when we're all keeping to ourselves and staring at the floor and saying "sorry" after running into people instead of saying "excuse me" and waiting for them to move. Maybe it's city life, maybe I am a jerk.

The "virtual goodie bag" arrived today for Big Sur. Sort of shocked me. I haven't thought about it in weeks. I'm really sad to be sitting it out. But there's no way it would happen, none at all. Next year.

El Paso.

I had to tell coworkers that I was pregnant, mostly because they asked me to cover an 11pm meeting, which is Midnight central time, which is somewhere around 3-4 hours after my bedtime.
"Oh, I suspected."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you have a little pooch."
Eh hem? Not that it wasn't like my 12th hour of working when this went down, but of all the completely crappy things to say to a person. Really? I have a "pooch?" Well, look, lady, you've got a whole THING going on there. But I don't ask if you're expecting. I know better. Harumph.

That's about how things have been going for me lately. After working till 10:30pm anyway, my brain woke me up at 5:30, 6:30 central, when I always wake up. Started to get ready to run, and ... how the hell did I forget a sports bra? This after I just bought two new ones in my new size. Opting not to strangle myself/give myself a black eye/attract unwanted attention, I instead did the DVD SquatsOfDoom workout ("I call this exercise 'preparing for childbirth'") and spent every free moment trying to figure out what to do. When I finally had a pause from work at about 4pm, I shoved lunch in my face and went on a tour of four- that's right, four- sporting good stores which had only those crappy stretchy "I'm an A cup and don't really need a bra anyway" sports bras before settling on paying $44 for a bra I usually get for $24. And to justify it I now I must run tomorrow. And Thu. And Fri. MUST.

Mexico is just over there ->. Once again NPR had a story about how completely effed up the drug war is in Juarez. I could run to Juarez from here. But I won't. Left the passport home.

And Saturday is the Flatlandia Kermesse. I really hope y'all go. It should be awesome. I think un-signing-up to officiate and volunteering instead was the best decision I could have made. I really want nothing to do with officiating this year- I'm learning that the hurdles we faced with our races aren't unique to us and other promoters share our frustration, and though there's one simple solution to this nothing's being done, so I'll just stay the hell away from all that, since I've ID'd the solution but nobody seems to care. Instead I'm driving the lead car for the women's 4 race, hopefully watching teammates have some fun.

I AM going to have a good weekend. Dammit.

At yesterday's 16w midwife appt, they were supposed to take blood. I still haven't had my initial prenatal tests, because at my first appt, they missed three times. (Have I mentioned that I'm a fainter, too?) Yesterday, they missed another three times. So, having 3 fresh and 3 old useless holes poked in my starry eyed and ringing eared self, they sent me to a lab. Rode to the lab today, nearly got hit and got run onto the sidewalk by a semi turning right through the bike lane (though he saw me there, srsly), showed up pissed off, and whooo... that was so easy. AND there was a cupcake shop on the first floor of the building. Red velvet, our wedding cake. Things just got much better.

Ariel's not borrowing my MTB after all, so I might ride trails (slowly) tomorrow. That is, if there's any trail open. Palos is closed. Kettle is closed through today, maybe open tomorrow. Vamos a ver. Happens every spring, ya?

I skipped my run this morning. Work had me up for 2 hours in the middle of the night fretting, and it was cold this morning. I'll make it up tomorrow. Really. Remember how for the last two years, NOTHING would keep me from my workouts, be it snow, rain, wind, no sleep, whatever? Well, I think I've found my Achilles heel.

Working out and making babies.

I've been reading a bit lately. Which is sort of a big deal for me- I really don't have much patience for reading. I picked up the book, "Exercising Through Your Pregnancy," and it's amazingly riveting. All this time people-- from doctors to relatives-- have been pushing pregnant women to cut back exercise or limit it to yoga/hippie crap during pregnancy. I mean, random people from family members to coworkers have little comments to make about my running already, but studies show that not only does working out help, working out up until the day of birth helps. Women who stop working out in the 3rd tri lose the benefits to their L&D. And the studies were based on moderate/hard weight bearing workouts. Wow.

For example, women who work out at 50% of their pre-pregnancy level (and at least 20 min at a moderately hard level 3x a week) had fewer birth interventions, fewer inductions (29% vs 53%!), more births at 39/40 weeks, and faster recovery and weight loss post-partum.

Yay, science!

My plan was always "run as long as I can." I think I might run longer than that. I hope y'all hold me to that. I've dropped to ~15 mpw (mostly 3 milers) and doing the workout and yoga dvd's. Since I wasn't marathon training this year 15 is a little more than half what I was doing, so I think we're square.

Or, bowing out.

Riding Palos last week was a wake up call as welcomed as having an arm slowly gnawed off by piranhas. My handling skills are still great- much better than 2 yrs ago- and my legs are still strong. But my heart and lungs are working for 1 1/3 and they're having none of it. Climbing hills, I'd get winded and need a break. My HR spikes so easily.

Now, the cardinal rules of preggo workouts are 1) keep the heart rate under 150, 2) keep the body temp low (no red face), and 3) drink more fluids than you think you need. Anyone who's seen me at a race knows that normally I'm a complete failure at #1 and #2. In fact, in any given photo my face will be cherry red and it's not unusual for strangers to ask if I'm ok, based entirely on just seeing my ruby face. Looking at race HR files from last year (thanks, gizmo!) I tend to race somewhere around 172 avg, with drops to 150's on downhills. Hello, reality. Thanks for the call.

As much as I want to race, and as much as I believe I can, I feel like it's just not "safe." I can ride my bike, and run, and even run "races," but I just know that once a bike race starts, I won't be able to hold back. I guess there are more important things. I've already pulled myself off all officiating for the year-- I've had my fill of that side of things for a while. Perhaps I'll just start volunteering at races instead, and then riding on my own.

Moving on, then.

We hired a doula yesterday. Makes the whole thing seem much more official- we have a doula. She came highly recommended by Kemily, who used her last-minute for their birth. The woman we're working with usually has clients at Swedish Covenant and hasn't worked at West Suburban so she's never attended a waterbirth before, but she's taking a class on it this weekend and sounds like she knows the ropes. We're cool with that. (I guess West Suburban is the only hospital that lets you deliver in a tub- others let you labor in it but force you out when it's time to push.)

Yeah, if I didn't mention, we're going all hippie with this one-- midwives, doulas, bathtubs, 8 week classes... hell, it's worth a shot. Hope for the best, right?

Anyway, it's been a workout-filled week. Yoga Sunday, run Monday, prenatal workout DVD Tues (it's squattastic!), run and bike intervals Wed, run and trail ride Thu. (Palos is GREAT right now, btw.) Today I'm off. Headed to the Shedd with one of my best friends from high school and bridesmaids, Portlynne, and her beautiful son and husband. Yup, that's 2 times to the Shedd in one year. I guess I'm "that age."