Speedy & I learned a new term today: slab-jacking. No, it has nothing to do with raw meat, theft, or sex.
You know when you are wheeling down the sidewalk and you have to pop a wheelie with the stroller to jump up an uneven piece of sidewalk, often dislodged by a tree? Slab-jacking is one remedy to this. (An easier one is: don't plant big trees in little tiny holes...) Rather than replacing the whole sidewalk, the too-low slabs are drilled with holes and injected with concrete under high pressure, until they are jacked up level with their abutters.
Ok, so it's only cool if you're a plant geek or disability rights activist.
Anyway, Speedy was amazingly tolerant of the whole expo center & lecture hall thing today. He barely fussed. However, he continues to prove that he knows when to cry to optimize social disruption -- in this case announcing our entry to the No Name restaurant during the packed lunch hour. I tried to get some friends to sit for him so that I could spare him tomorrow's session on green roofs, but no dice.
In other news: I ran for 22 consecutive minutes today at the gym! I will be able to complete the St. Paddy's Day 5K without walk breaks. Yay!
1.31.2006
1.29.2006
Pregnant Runner Haiku
It ain't Runner's World's shoe haiku, but...
1
Thirteen minute miles
feel not so slow to us now.
Week thirty-seven.
2
Strong breath, heart, legs speed
my round belly's passenger
to the finish line.
3
This race has no shirt,
no bag, no schwag, yet we push
for our squalling prize.
4
No sag vehicle
but my breath and your strong arms.
No choice but first place.
- CEV, October 2005
Games Mommies Play
Pushing a baby stroller is just like pushing a lawn mower, except you can't burn or cut yourself on it when you have to lift it up stairs. This makes me happy.
Grammy has no issues with pushing a stroller, but she pretends she's mowing the lawn when she vaccumes the floor. (She also pretends she's flying a plane when sitting in the dentist's chair. Not while he's working on her, of course.)
Grammy has no issues with pushing a stroller, but she pretends she's mowing the lawn when she vaccumes the floor. (She also pretends she's flying a plane when sitting in the dentist's chair. Not while he's working on her, of course.)
An Intrusion of Realism
Grammy is gone, and it's back to solo mommyhood, with the added bonus of Jesse being sick. On the plus side, I spoke with my boss on Friday, and it looks like I'll be able to work from home a good bit this season, which lessens the "I'm only working so I can afford childcare" dilemma. Speedy is accompanying me to the largest landscaping trade show in the US this week, so we'll get to see how being a "working mother" in the most simultaneous sense plays out...
Today's run started out discouraging, but improved once I realized that "shorts weather" for running is a bit too cool for run-walk training. My legs weren't cramping because I was weak, but because I should have been wearing tights to keep the muscles warm during walks. So, I ended up shorting the walk breaks to a minute or less, and got home sooner than expected.
Maybe there's a good lesson there about new parenthood: when things don't work quite as expected, it's not (necessarily) because one sucks as a parent, but because the pace and climate are slighty different with a baby, a mommy-body, etc.
E.g.: I breezed into a noon meeting last week with hands full, coffee sloshing, having just devoured a muffin for "lunch" after running errands all morning. Par for the course for me, and previously not a problem, except now the meeting was of a new moms' group, and I'm trying to compose myself without waking Speedy as I remove him from the Baby Björn. (Other moms and babies look on, as if I just missed the complimentary Valium ingested by everyone else at the start of the meeting.)
Eh. Más se perdió en la guerra.
Today's run started out discouraging, but improved once I realized that "shorts weather" for running is a bit too cool for run-walk training. My legs weren't cramping because I was weak, but because I should have been wearing tights to keep the muscles warm during walks. So, I ended up shorting the walk breaks to a minute or less, and got home sooner than expected.
Maybe there's a good lesson there about new parenthood: when things don't work quite as expected, it's not (necessarily) because one sucks as a parent, but because the pace and climate are slighty different with a baby, a mommy-body, etc.
E.g.: I breezed into a noon meeting last week with hands full, coffee sloshing, having just devoured a muffin for "lunch" after running errands all morning. Par for the course for me, and previously not a problem, except now the meeting was of a new moms' group, and I'm trying to compose myself without waking Speedy as I remove him from the Baby Björn. (Other moms and babies look on, as if I just missed the complimentary Valium ingested by everyone else at the start of the meeting.)
Eh. Más se perdió en la guerra.
1.26.2006
The iPod
Jesse runs with music; I don't. Usually. Except that since having Speedy, I have not been able to leave the house without obsessing about him. My runs are the one time I would like to hold sacred, breathing the fresh air bus exhaust uninterrupted by throughts of the quantity and quality of the day's poops. So, today I took the iPod, which Jesse has loaded with fast & slow run mixes.
All I can say about the quality of the mixes is that I ended up cutting my walk breaks short when each new song came on, because the tempo was so perfect. Any GenX-er could have played name that tune as I, pounding silently along in my headphones, suddenly shouted "Leo-nard-Bern-stein!" or whistled the pennywhistle section of "Send Me on My Way." I suggest checking out Jesse's "What's on my iPod" sidebar. You, too, may find yourself sheepishly bounding along to Cristina Aguilera's "Fighter."
All I can say about the quality of the mixes is that I ended up cutting my walk breaks short when each new song came on, because the tempo was so perfect. Any GenX-er could have played name that tune as I, pounding silently along in my headphones, suddenly shouted "Leo-nard-Bern-stein!" or whistled the pennywhistle section of "Send Me on My Way." I suggest checking out Jesse's "What's on my iPod" sidebar. You, too, may find yourself sheepishly bounding along to Cristina Aguilera's "Fighter."
1.25.2006
Post-partum Training Plan
Opted to nap instead of going to yoga last night. But I did set up a training log on Cool Running, including the past few weeks of post-partum training history.
When I was pregnant, I searched in vain for pregnancy & post-partum training plans. I am here to tell you that (1) it can be done, and (2) you don't have to keep your heart-rate below 140! Chris Lundgren's Runner's World Guide to Running & Pregnancy was a great resource, but I had lost it in the pile of baby stuff when the time came to return to running, so I kinda felt my way through the first weeks back on the road.
My first day out, I planned to walk 5 minutes and run 1 -- a gentle reversal of Jeff Galloway's intervals for marathon distance-building. When I got out there, I realized I could run 3 min. at a time, with 3 min. recovery, so that's what I did.
My goal is to continue my current flat 3 mile route, increasing my run intervals up to 5 min. and my walks down to 1 min., then start building distance and adding hills back in. My trainer/friend Lisa has also designed a strenght work-out to counter the upper-body strain of breastfeeding and baby-hefting, and to rebuild the shoulder and abdominal muscles that I couldn't work out much during pregnancy.
When I was pregnant, I searched in vain for pregnancy & post-partum training plans. I am here to tell you that (1) it can be done, and (2) you don't have to keep your heart-rate below 140! Chris Lundgren's Runner's World Guide to Running & Pregnancy was a great resource, but I had lost it in the pile of baby stuff when the time came to return to running, so I kinda felt my way through the first weeks back on the road.
My first day out, I planned to walk 5 minutes and run 1 -- a gentle reversal of Jeff Galloway's intervals for marathon distance-building. When I got out there, I realized I could run 3 min. at a time, with 3 min. recovery, so that's what I did.
My goal is to continue my current flat 3 mile route, increasing my run intervals up to 5 min. and my walks down to 1 min., then start building distance and adding hills back in. My trainer/friend Lisa has also designed a strenght work-out to counter the upper-body strain of breastfeeding and baby-hefting, and to rebuild the shoulder and abdominal muscles that I couldn't work out much during pregnancy.
1.24.2006
Dish Karma, etc.
Skipped my run yesterday after schlepping around for a friend down with a hip injury. Based on Gmap Pedometer, I did about 4 miles in the snow, with Speedy in the Baby Bjorn. The friends in question have amassed major good karma since Speedy's conception, checking in with both my partner & I, inviting us to lots of last-minute meals, and even doing our dishes. Doing each other's dishes and errand-running is very win-win: whoever is doing the chore feels altruistic, and whoever is on the receiving end gets something done that otherwise would have required additional sleep deprivation to accomplish.
Just got back from a walk (a.k.a. lull the baby to sleep), which produced these random thoughts:
1) While trying to maintain perpetual motion with the stroller and cursing cross-traffic even more than I do on a run, I realized whoever conceptualized the movie Speed must have had a wakeful infant.
2) This blog should be subtitled "The Boob Blog," since I only sit down at the computer when Speedy's nursing. I read somewhere about the importance of "mothering at the breast"... For Speedster, that looks something like "Click, Clack, Moo!"
Just got back from a walk (a.k.a. lull the baby to sleep), which produced these random thoughts:
1) While trying to maintain perpetual motion with the stroller and cursing cross-traffic even more than I do on a run, I realized whoever conceptualized the movie Speed must have had a wakeful infant.
2) This blog should be subtitled "The Boob Blog," since I only sit down at the computer when Speedy's nursing. I read somewhere about the importance of "mothering at the breast"... For Speedster, that looks something like "Click, Clack, Moo!"
1.23.2006
Grins on the Run
Friday, I did something almost unheard-of in the greater Boston running community: I smiled at another runner.
I've spent 6 years bopping along the banks of the Charles with all the students, with no hint of collegiality. Even running pregnant, I only had one (1) warm encounter with other runners: a group of masters' runners on an early morning run in Davis Square smiled encouragingly as my 7-months pregnant and training for a 5K self bounced by. (Though I did get occasional encouragement from hard-core cyclists and homeless men.)
Normally, we do not make eye contact, but treat every "easy" day as a race. As I progressed through pregnancy, I mentally "raced" to pass first lanky Harvard boys, then women my own age and size, then 40-something moms pushing double running strollers, before finally giving up and racing the clock, just aiming to run a negative split (even if I was doing 12-minute miles).
But Friday, I found myself jogging towards another runner -- she was even young, pretty, and out-pacing me -- and smiling. Maybe it was a vicarious thrill at seeing a woman who felt at home in her body, who had free time to run, who was kicking it the way I did a year ago. Or maybe it was my new-found maternal instinct, which seems to apply to anyone under the age of 20, proud to see this young woman genuinely enjoying and excelling at running, rather than miserably punishing her body to justify another cookie. But in any case, I smiled at her. And damned if she didn't smile back at the weary-eyed woman beeping her watch to walk.
In any case, it was enough to inspire me to finally put up the blog I'd been contemplating. As hard as face-to-face companionship is to find among Beantown runners, I know I'm not alone in this sense that running is my home turf.
I've spent 6 years bopping along the banks of the Charles with all the students, with no hint of collegiality. Even running pregnant, I only had one (1) warm encounter with other runners: a group of masters' runners on an early morning run in Davis Square smiled encouragingly as my 7-months pregnant and training for a 5K self bounced by. (Though I did get occasional encouragement from hard-core cyclists and homeless men.)
Normally, we do not make eye contact, but treat every "easy" day as a race. As I progressed through pregnancy, I mentally "raced" to pass first lanky Harvard boys, then women my own age and size, then 40-something moms pushing double running strollers, before finally giving up and racing the clock, just aiming to run a negative split (even if I was doing 12-minute miles).
But Friday, I found myself jogging towards another runner -- she was even young, pretty, and out-pacing me -- and smiling. Maybe it was a vicarious thrill at seeing a woman who felt at home in her body, who had free time to run, who was kicking it the way I did a year ago. Or maybe it was my new-found maternal instinct, which seems to apply to anyone under the age of 20, proud to see this young woman genuinely enjoying and excelling at running, rather than miserably punishing her body to justify another cookie. But in any case, I smiled at her. And damned if she didn't smile back at the weary-eyed woman beeping her watch to walk.
In any case, it was enough to inspire me to finally put up the blog I'd been contemplating. As hard as face-to-face companionship is to find among Beantown runners, I know I'm not alone in this sense that running is my home turf.
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