Jillian here, reporting from Cloud 9.
After a couple of weeks of feeling like I was in a constant [rather grey and heavy] fog, the most obvious solution possible has proven effective: just keep running. During pregnancy, a lot of things are amplified, like your sense of smell, physical self-awareness, emotions, and fatigue. It turns out endorphins seem to be equally heightened and even a short run with some fresh air has helped the fog lift.
My office closed early Friday afternoon — and thank goodness; last week was LONG — so after arriving home, I laced up and headed out for four miles around my neighborhood with a nice cool down walk back to the house.
Sunday morning I woke up to a Facebook feed full of photos and posts from friends running the Run to Remember 5-miler and Half Marathon and let me tell you, I caught a serious case of FOMO, except in this case, I actually am missing out. Instead of wallowing (or maybe after wallowing for just a few minutes) I decided to head over to Southfield for five miles of my own.
It was a spectacular morning and the change of scenery was exactly what I needed.
Finishing up and returning to my car, it dawned on me that I had run 5 1/2 miles around the same time that marked 5 1/2 months of my pregnancy. I’m into silly symbolism like that. When I run the Runner’s World Festival 10K in June, it will mark 6 (.2) miles at 6 months. Chugging right along!
Last night, after a really outstanding long weekend and a long day out and about on the town with Nik, it got kind of dark and stormy, but I suited up for a quick run and crossed my fingers that the rain would hold off. I went for a quick 3-mile loop, starting and finishing especially strong and in a fantastic mood. The best part was that by the time I got out of the shower, Nik had dinner off the grill and onto the table, wrapping up the holiday weekend wonderfully.
There’s a frequent lesson — so frequent I might go ahead and call it a reminder — here: it’s really easy to sit on the couch and to queue up my TiVo. It’s easy to cave to being tired or to mask feeling sluggish with the very convenient solution of my oft-mentioned oversized sweatpants (they’re from Quinnipiac University, with bleach stains on the knees and heel-holes at the bottom each leg. In a word, they’re attractive.) Perhaps I’m allowed to play the pregnant-card and hole up instead of getting out, but my gosh, I feel so much better when I’m moving.