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Posts Tagged ‘breakfast’

So, long story short: Two weeks ago I visited A Mother’s Place with my youngest because he still (as of a 4 week old check-up) had not regained to his birth weight. While we were there we discovered that he has mouth issues that were causing milk supply issues, that were in turn causing weight gaining issues. My poor boy was hungry and I didn’t even know it! ūüė¶

We spent 3 hours with Jane and came home overwhelmed (well I was, he probably wasn’t) but with a plan. This has become our routine since then:

5ish: nurse, both of us back to sleep

8ish: nurse, give 2oz bottle of my pumped milk, change diaper, “play”, nap (him, not me), take herbs and vitamins (me, not him), eat breakfast with older two, drink 20oz water, pump

11ish: nurse, give 2oz bottle, change diaper, “play”, nap (again him, not me), take herbs and vitamins, eat lunch with older two, drink 20oz water, pump

2ish: nurse, give 2oz bottle, change diaper, “play”, nap (him, and if I’m lucky, me)

5ish: nurse, give 2oz bottle, change diaper, “play”, nap (just him this time), take herbs and vitamins, eat dinner with older two and hubby, drink 20oz water, pump

8ish: nurse, give 2oz bottle, change diaper, “play”, in bed (just him, not me yet), take herbs, eat snack, drink 20oz water, pump

11ish: give 2-3oz bottle, in bed (us both this time. yay!)

Some days it seems to take all day just to do the things on this list. Other days I might fit in about 10 % of what’s on my other “to do” list like laundry, dishes, school with Meadow, making dinner, reminding Granite not to whine, errands, baths (or hygiene in general for that matter), answering the phone, replying to texts, etc., etc., etc……

Yes, I am overwhelmed. Yes, I am doing my best to extend grace to myself every day, sometimes many, many times a day. Yes, I am ready for a good night’s sleep, a day without physical pain/discomfort, enough strength and healing to be able to run and hike and workout and wrestle with my kids and make love with my husband. Yes, I am ready for “normal”.

But I am also savoring this short time I have to cuddle my youngest before he is too busy to be cuddled, to kiss his bald head before it is covered with hair, to enjoy his huge smiles while that is his only means of communicating how much he loves his mama, and to nurse my sweet baby while that is still his favorite way to be comforted.

Every day is a challenge for me right now. But it is also a miracle. And for that I am so very, very grateful.

His and Yours,

~Echo~

P.S. Canyon gained 1/2 a pound after one week of our new plan. His pediatrician said that is perfect, that was what she was hoping for. Thank you, Lord! And thank you friends and family for your prayers.

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Women's Half Marathon 2010

It is¬†11pm as I lay here on¬†our living room couch and stare at this computer screen, pondering the day’s event, my blistered toes throbbing, my shredded muscles aching, my tired head pounding…

13.1 miles.

1 hour and 54 minutes and 30 seconds.

An 8 minutes and 45 seconds per mile average.

The hardest I have ever run in my whole life.

I can honestly say that I gave it everything I had and more, that with each mile, as I became more and more fatigued, and as my body screamed louder and louder for me to stop, I just dug a little deeper and somehow found the willpower to keep moving forward.

I exceeded my original goal (that being to break my previous PR of 1 hour and 58 minutes and 22 seconds), by 3 minutes and 52 seconds. And for this I know I should be thrilled.

But for some reason, just in the last few weeks, I decided that it might be possible for me to accomplish an even bigger goal of mine: to finish the race with an 8 minutes and 30 seconds per mile average.

I’m not sure why I thought this would be possible. I have done no speedwork and very few “run for time” runs. I have been running 4:1 intervals (run 4 minutes, walk 1 minute) almost exclusively since April (in an effort to combat a lingering knee injury) with only a handful of “run the whole time” runs sprinkled in and the longest run I have completed at a pace faster than a 9 minute mile was 6 miles. So I’m not sure why I thought I could run more than twice that distance at an even¬†faster pace.

But I did.

Silly me.

I was wrong.

This bigger goal would have had me crossing the finish line at 1 hour and 51 minutes and 21 seconds. I missed this second goal, this bigger goal of mine, by 3 minutes and 9 seconds.

And though I have tried to be rational and positive with myself all day today, if we are being totally honest in this moment, then I have to admit- I am disappointed that I missed my bigger goal.

I realize that this probably seems crazy to all you non-runners out there (and for that matter, maybe to some of you runners too). I realize this.¬†Give me a couple days and I may just agree with you. But at this moment in time, in my current state, I cannot yet see it that way…

So one of the voices in my head¬†has¬†made a list today- a list of all of¬†the things that¬†worked against my goal, all of that¬†which¬†worked to keep me¬†3 minutes from it¬†(Besides not properly training¬†for this specific goal. I guess that’s kind of a big one…), all of the reasons that it should be understandable, even ok, that I “failed”. This is the voice that always tries to encourage me. And today I think it is trying to¬†protect me from my¬†mostly irrational feelings of defeat.

It is working.

A little bit.

So. The list.

reason 1) Not enough sleep or food. My nerves kept me awake. My nerves tied my stomach into knots, rendering me unable to eat more than a few bites for a breakfast. My fast pace kept my stomach in knots, preventing my usual mid-race consumption of calories.

reason 2) My race playlist got scrambled. Not sure how. But the songs I had in the order¬†of when¬†I anticipated I would need them were jumbled and mixed. So instead of pushing play and sliding the ipod into my pocket, I¬†kept it in my hand and fumbled with it’s buttons after¬†each song ended, my sweaty fingers sliding clumsily over¬†it’s face, searching for the melodious energy I was depending on to keep me moving.

reason 3) Hills. So many damn hills. Picture running up and down a see-saw. Up. Down. Up. Down. With no relief. For 13.1 miles. Damn hills.

reason 4) A searing sun. A blinding sun. And all of the physical reactions that come with that. Squinting eyes. Building headache. Fire to my skin. Chills covering my body, racking my body from mile 10 until 2 hours after the race ended.

reason 5)¬†¬†Negative energy from a fellow runner. I don’t think the negative energy was intentional. But nevertheless it messed with my head in the days leading up to the race. And knocked me off my feet around mile 9.

But as encouraging as this voice is trying to be, this voice is almost always accompanied by another voice. Sometimes the other voice is quieter. Today it is louder.

So here’s the list the¬†other voice has made for why I should have met my goal today:

reason 1) I have been running A LOT. Running 18 miles just last week. Consistently running 3-4 times a week for 5 months (and off and on for 13 years before that). And I have been cross training/strength training faithfully (for the first time in my life) once or twice a week for 9 months.

reason 2) I trained through the heat and humidity of the summer and race day was significantly cooler and less humid than the weather that I trained in.

reason 3) I am in the best shape of my life. (Oh, but how I underestimated what it would take to run that fast for that long!)

reason 4) I am used to setting goals and meeting them. I really thought today would just be another one of those times. That no matter what it took, no matter how hard it got, no matter how much it hurt, that I would just do what it took to meet my goal.

reason 5) I can run 5 miles at an 8:15 pace. And I can run 18 miles. So based on that I should be able to run 13.1 miles at an 8:30 pace. Right?

And as all of these thoughts are swirling through my head today, so are my memories of the race. 

Most of the race was a blur. A blur of cheering spectators and encouraging volunteers, a blur of buildings and trees, water stations and porta potties, asphalt and running shoes, men and women all headed to the finish line. The weather was cool and breezy at the start. A little warmer than I would have liked by the end.

My supportive husband and mom, sister and sister-in-law, father-in-law and one friend spent their morning watching the race. I spotted them and their sign at miles 6 and 8. And they spotted me. Their encouragement gave me a burst of energy for the minutes following. Their support means the world to me.

The winner of the race did not look like a runner. Her 6 minutes per mile pace defied her bigger build and heavy footsteps. Surprised and perplexed would be the best words to describe how I felt when I saw her leading the pack by almost half a mile.

The pacers and the women running beside them were the only other runners that stood out to me. To see the pacers, relaxed and comfortable, running 13 miles for the sake of another and to see the women who were running beside them, women who had a goal, women who leaned on the strength of another, women who pushed themselves, knowing that if they could just keep up, that they could achieve said goal, is an image I will not soon forget.

My Garmin kept track of my pace for each mile. I have looked over it several times in an attempt to see where my 3 minutes went.

Mile 1: 7:56

Mile 2: 7:55

Mile 3: 9:42

Mile 4: 7:58

Mile 5: 8:50

Mile 6: 8:40

Mile 7: 8:29

Mile 8: 8:37

Mile 9: 8:18

Mile 10: 8:22

Mile 11: 8:12

Mile 12: 8:58

Mile 13: 9:54

Mile .1: 0:59

I think it is safe to say that mile 3’s potty break, and mile 12 and 13, were what did me in. By mile 12 I had run completely out of self encouragement, run out of all of the mental games I usually play, run out of juice, out of adrenaline, out of ability and out of confidence.

So I am left with three words and three things learned.

Word number one: Demoralizing. (How it felt to watch the runners around me and in front of me continue on strong as my depleted body slowed, their bodies becoming smaller and smaller as they charged into the distance.)

Word number two: Dismaying. (The experience of reaching the bottom of that last brutal hill -cruelly placed, as it was perhaps the steepest of them all- a few tenths of a mile into mile thirteen and looking up, then fighting with myself all the way to the top, as every few steps I slowed to a walk, then took off running again only to find myself walking again, seconds later.)

And word number three: Devastating. (The word that best describes the moment when I knew my goal had slipped through my fingers, slipped right through as I stood -or technically ran- and watched powerlessly.)

And my three things learned:

1) To set more realistic goals for myself. For pete’s sake.

2) That next time, if I want to run a 1:51:21 half marathon, I am going to have to train harder. Or at least better.

3) What they mean when they say “Running is 80% mental and 20% physical.”

Today’s¬†race was harder than I was. The hills stronger. My goal better than I was.

And I am humbled. Which is probably good. We all need to humbled once in a while.

Note: At this point (mostly because I am a really slow editor but also because I don’t always know how to make time for my blog) it has been 2 1/2 weeks since the race and 2 1/2 weeks since the night that I wrote this. Just wanted you all to know that I am feeling much better now (both physically and emotionally). Thank you.

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