1st Place Goes to the Whale Shark

Last week, I officially decided to put running on hold for the remainder of my pregnancy.  My runs the week before last, were slow and annoying.  I felt like I had to pee, although I didn’t really need to, the entire time.  On a typical morning run I would chat with my running partner, enjoy the scenery and clear my mind, but lately, there’s been no enjoyment, just the constant fear of peeing all over myself. I’m embarrassed to say that my fear is warranted, because I did pee in my pants, a few years ago while riding my bike with a urinary tract infection.  For the record, and probably to Jeff’s and my good friend Kacey’s, disappointment, I’d like to reserve all future bathroom emergencies for the baby.  

I spent this past weekend in West Hartford, CT hanging with my parents, while Jeff was away at Bonneroo.  I went to the reservoir with my Mom on Saturday morning, as I do on every visit home, but this time with the expectation that she would run and I would walk.  Perhaps, it was the cool rainy weather or that I didn’t want to be left behind, that I decided to give running one last go. I’m so happy I did.  Even though I couldn’t keep pace with my Mom the entire time, I felt great, completed the two-mile loop with a smile and not in search of a bathroom.  So perhaps, I really will achieve my goal of running through my 2^nd trimester.  And when the time comes to hang up my sneakers, I’m prepared. Actually, I love my pre-natal workout routine, and I’d be okay with a running hiatus.

On Monday and Friday mornings I head down the street to my fabulous Pilates studio for the 1-hour class at 6:30AM.  The studio has one incredibly talented owner/instructor, named Susan, one reformer, four mats, and about a dozen stability balls. Apparently, the ‘hood doesn’t have many early risers because I’m often the only client.  Which means that I get a private lesson, on the reformer, for the price of a group mat class.  This is unheard of in NYC, perhaps, even the world!

Thursdays, after work, I hop on the train and head downtown to the indoor pool at Clarement Prep School just off of Wall Street for Aqua Mom. The 8-week program, which has a ridiculously long waitlist, consists of 8 to 10 pregnant ladies swimming laps and doing water aerobics with the help of noodles, flippers, kickboards, foam dumbbells, and music.  It’s a serious workout and I take it really seriously.  I’d like to suggest to Andrea, the instructor, that she consider having try-outs or cuts.

Notice the whale-shark pattern! 

As I slice through the water like a shark, er, whale shark, you know, large but with grace, I get annoyed with my classmates. When their not clinging to the wall with foot cramps, they’re acting as if we’re meandering down the Lazy River at Disney World. Meanwhile, the competitive swimmer in me has come out in full-force, and my internal monolog is brutal and something like this; ‘honey, if you didn’t know how to do the breaststroke before you got pregnant, now is not the time to learn, and sorry to say, but that spec of a kickboard isn’t gonna keep you, your ass, and your unborn baby above water any more than a deflated arm float, now move aside, ‘cause I’m about to do a flip-turn up in in your face.’ Then, I fake smile as I swim by.  

Just upon leaving class last week, Andrea, handed me a clear, waterproof Aqua Mom “purse”. I politely accepted the gift and thought, oh neat, a change purse for my gym bag, just as she said, “it’s for your wet suit.”  I fake smiled again and laughed to myself.  The only piece of my suit that would fit in that teeny thing is the bra-cup inserts, should I choose to remove them, which works for me, because I never know what to do with those things anyway.  Meanwhile, I’ll continue to use one of those giant blue Ikea shopping bags for my hauling my whale-sized suit to and from class.