“Après moi, le deluge.”
— supposedly said by Louis XV of France (who preceded Louis XVI who was king during the French Revolution — the deluge)
I am in a state of frustration. For the last few weeks, I keep waking up at 2am. I cannot fall back asleep, so I find the easiest thing to do is to just roll with it. I get up. I make the coffee. I do the morning things. I start working. By mid-morning I’m frazzled and exhausted. I typically work out around noon, so as you can imagine that works out really well.
Today I planned to run sixty minutes, then go to CrossFit. It was icy outside so I went to the rec center and ran on the treadmill. Now — I’m not someone who is normally super physically insecure. Trust me I’m insecure about plenty of other things, but that is not usually one of them. Today I felt it. You see, I am definitely in that phase where if you know that I am pregnant, I look pregnant. However, if you do not know I’m pregnant, I just look like I really indulged over the 2018 holiday season and am a New Year Resolutioner atoning for my gluttonous ways. I walked into the rec with all the skinny college girls on the treadmills and I just felt fat and bloated, not like a pregnant bad ass. So, as you can tell my attitude was fantastic.
Physically, I just felt trashed. My legs felt trashed. Every muscle and joint felt trashed. It just felt stupid hard. I gave up running the whole time after twenty minutes. I quit at around 53 minutes (yeah, I had seven minutes left and I quit). At this point, my groin and pelvis were aching and I went home, ate, and passed out for the next several hours.
I’m frustrated. I don’t love “wogging” — switching back to walking and running. I am frustrated about the fact that I’m just looking at a slow decline between now and June. I am frustrated that my pelvis will not stop hurting. If you mention this, the response is “oh if you are tired now, just wait until the baby comes” or “good luck working out post-baby, so why bother now?” I get it. The great message is that come June life is going to hit the fan, so everything I’m complaining about now is irrelevant. It is (not) very helpful.
Moreover, even though I know, I know physically things are just going to be going downhill for awhile (and not in that fun way), I am having a hard time having patience with it and patience for myself. I know I’m going to have to go slow, but do I really have to take walk breaks? After I make peace with the walk breaks, now do I have to have so much pelvic pain? Even CrossFit related (which frankly, has not been too affected by pregnancy because I have to do everything modified already anyways) — burpees are hard and painful, but should I basically walk like I have saddle legs afterwards because of my cranky pelvis?
I think I envisioned myself being one of those pregnant runners who would run the whole time. And when I had those few amazing weeks November through December, I thought no problem. Even though I knew it might not last, I thought maybe, just maybe, I would be one of those lucky people where it would. And trust me, I’m still going to try. Can’t keep a Type A girl down! I just think I’m going to have to adjust what that looks like with the pelvic pain, because it is painful and not a joy at all.
Most importantly, I think I’m going to have to make peace with the deluge, but aside from re-reading this Katie Grossman article, I still have no idea how to do that yet.