Did I Mention . . .

I'm acting again. The more I hoped and prayed for an opportunity to work part time, the more the road led to my old, nasty acting habit. It started with an offer to perform as a guest artist at my graduate alma mater - the lead in Dangerous Liasons. The pay was better than any other part time job I could do in the evenings and the opportunity to perform such an incredible role - and to open a new, spectacular theatre for the University - was too good to pass up. We open tomorrow. Hopefully, its like riding a bike.

Next week, I go back to the children's theatre I worked for when I walked away from the bizz two years ago. I'll be acting as well as doing administrative work 20 hours a week. I can bring Noah to the office and will be home in time to pick Boy Genius up from school. Perfect!

Funny how life works. Now, if I can just get back in the pool . . .

PS - Here's the Baby Picture

He's a Cards Fan, naturally.

Run

Many of my best journeys have started with a run. Certainly the road to my First Triathlon Ever. I started my pregnancy with a run, also - 1am, shortly after I saw that little plus sign and new what was coming, I went for a run to clear my head. Four months into my pregnancy, I had to stop running - or, rather, I chose to stop running to give my poor back a break. It was one of the few times I've let my body's whining win an argument.

This morning, for the first time since December, I set out on my old running route - the same one I ran that early morning a little less than a year ago - and I ran most of it. It hurt. It was hot. I had to take some walking breaks. But I got through it. I've been running a few weeks now - interspersed liberally with walking breaks - but I haven't ventured from the blocks around my little neighborhood, staying close to home and in my comfort zone. When the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., I knew it was time to break free.

My weight is still ridiculous. I haven't been this size for over eight years - not since the birth of my first son. Its tough to accept but it is what it is. I have a healthy baby and an abundant milk supply to show for it so, really, in the scheme of things, the size of my posterior (which is formidable to be sure) is not important. Still, its often the unimportant things that consume our attention and it bothers me. A lot. But, I can still run. It feels ungainly. Its harder than it was a year ago - by a longshot. But, I was out there this morning, putting one foot in front of the other.

I'm slightly appalled that I haven't seen any real progress on losing this baby weight. I've been working out - usually twice or more a day - for weeks. Its not budging. I'm a little stronger than I was but the road to my next race seems unthinkably long. I'm not sure what the lesson is this time.

Triathlon taught me to find a healthy balance of pride and humility - I began to understand just how much this body was capable of while being constantly reminded of my unavoidable humanness. Yes, I could climb those hills that looked impossible but, more often than I care to admit, I could also taste pavement when I was just tooling down the street. Yes, I could swim farther than I would have believed a year before, I could also find myself fighting panic on an open water swim just yards from the shore. Yes, I could run miles and trails that were a distant dream before, I could also choke on the dust of a mom pushing her baby in a stroller while, at the same time, I PRd for a 10k.

Pregnancy taught me to accept things beyond my control. I watched my fitness decline and my body grow. I tried to revel in the grandiose belly that always drew comment from strangers. I did revel in the stirrings of my growing baby and tried to be patient as his due date came and went and then became a distant memory. I rolled with the punches and accepted interventions I'd wanted to avoid and felt my last remnant of control slip away when labor became not only painful but dangerous. I finally learned the lesson and felt peace come over me when they wheeled me into the operating room. Finally, I got it. I wasn't in control but I had faith that the One that was had a plan. Not my will but Thine be done. And it turned out okay. Better than okay. So, though I'm sure I'll have some reviews and several pop quizzes, I feel that I've passed that course.

Now, what? What is it that I'm supposed to take away from this? Anything? I think maybe its perseverance. Its one thing to press on when you're getting faster, leaner, stronger. Its another to continue when you see no noticeable result. To continue simply for the sake of continuing. So, I'll keep going. And I'm going to keep writing - or start writing again and keep going. I need this. I need a record of where I've been and a goal post for where I'm going. I need to put one foot in front of the other and one word after another. Thanks for being patient with me. Thanks for your feedback even when I'd been away for months.

Now, please help to hold me accountable. I'm back. And I intend to stay.

N-n-n-now that that don't kill me will only make me stronger . . .

Noah's Finally Here!!!

Warning - Detailed Birth Story, Possibly TMI - if you don't want the details, you can just look at the pictures.


It was a little too dramatic - even for my taste - but Noah has finally made his entrance! I tried sex, evening primrose oil, spicy food, walking, jogging, yoga squats, raspberry leaf tea and, finally, castor oil. All to no avail. We reluctantly agreed to an induction on Sunday, June 8, as he was not getting any smaller and I was beyond sick of being pregnant.

It started out great, I was progressing steadily and handling the contractions - with the help of my husband and my doula. We went au natural (except for the Pitocin) for 12 hours and I thought I was on top of it. Then, they turned the Pitocin up. I went from being on top of the contractions to being underneath them. When the nurse said "Tell us when you feel any pressure." I thought "Yes! I'm in transition. " But I was only four centimeters. So, I did what any self respecting bad ass triathlete would do. I went for the epidural. Well, first, I gave it another hour to see if I could get a handle on it, then I went for the epidural.

Again, things seemed to be progressing and at 2pm, Monday I was declared to be at 8 centimeters. Groovy, we thought, he'd be here in a couple of hours. But a couple of hours came and went and I was still 8. More troublesome, he wasn't moving any further down. Even more troublesome, I was running a fever and bleeding "more than normally". Worse still, his heart rate started to decelerate. There was light merconium when my water broke which, by itself, wasn't a big deal but, coupled with everything else, was cause for concern. We decided to bail and go for the C-section.

It was a good decision. He was born within 20 minutes of our decision and needed oxygen and three days in the NICU for inhaled merconium. It was scary but along every step of the way there was someone there to reassure us and support us. He is a strong little guy and we knew within 24 hours that he would be just fine.
















He weighed in at a whopping 10 lbs 12 oz. He was 22 1/2 inches long and his head was 15 inches around. No wonder he wasn't dropping!!

He was Gulliver among the Lilliputans in the NICU. The parents of all the tiny preemies were looking at us like "What's HE doing here?"

Thankfully, by Thursday morning, he was released to my room.

And, Friday afternoon, we took him home with us. On his first visit to the pediatrician, he weighed in at 11lbs 3 oz. All's well that ends well, friends. And all is well.

I'm Still Here!!

It seems ridiculous to even apologize for my absence - its been so long. What can I say? Circumstances have been changing so fast, its been hard to get my head around it. I was informed by my bosses on March 20th that March 31st would be my last day. Thanks for everything, don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out. Since then, I've been floating between the gestational bliss of simply chillin' and nesting and feeling completely useless and without purpose - a dead weight on my family's strained financial situation. Fortunately, the bliss is more frequent than the pity parties.

And my days for chillin' and basking in the sunshine are numbered, friends. My due date is two weeks from today. Yowza. My doctor is reluctant to "let" me go overdue as last weeks ultrasound indicated that our little guy is already well over eight pounds. Sure, those things are historically inaccurate but, as my first was a ten pounder, it seems to follow that this guy would not want to be outdone. So, I'm trying to gently encourage a timely arrival - Crunchy Mama does not want to throw down with the Medical Establishment over induction and other ugly Intervention type words. If May 27 comes and goes with no baby, I'll be getting more aggressive. Castor Oil doesn't appeal but it may just trump Pitocin. Fortunately for Hubby (or not fortunately, I guess you'd have to get his point of view on the subject) sex is an excellent natural induction technique. This late in the game, however, such methods do require a sense of humor. Any other suggestions are greatly appreciated. I've been trying to down as much red raspberry leaf tea as possible. Black and Blue Cohosh scare me as I've read they lead to thinning of the blood and I'm already anemic. Still, fair or not fair, I see Pitocin as my mortal enemy. I couldn't tell you why,exactly, I'm just stubborn, I guess.

With triathlon training season in full bloom, I can often be found gazing wistfully at cyclists in full kit and runners cruising down the sidewalk as I drive past, barely fitting behind the steering wheel. My time will come again. The jogging stroller (a B.O.B.!!) is in the garage at the ready. I plan on getting the car seat adapter for it - does anybody know if you can run with that? Otherwise, he'll have to be six months before I can run with him in the stroller. That seems interminably long. Still, Hubby is supportive and amazing with babies so, I'm sure I'll be running before the summer is over. Maybe just for a block at a time, but I'll be running. Mark. My. Words.

I hope everyone's season is going swimmingly. And bikingly. And runningly. I'll take some time from my nesting, chilling bliss to visit your blogs. Much love - and I'll keep you updated!

Living Vicariously

Well, friends, it seems that two of our fellow bloggers are on the campaign trail and mighty close to making the cut. Help 'em out, the info is below. And, who knows, maybe one of these days it'll be you and they'll return the favor.

Peace.

MAKE IT 2 OUTTA 3 In a coordinated effort with other Tri-Bloggers I am supporting both Commodore and TriBoomer in their combined effort to make the top three vote getters of this month's EvoTri sponsorship. Both of them are equally capable of representing their fellow age groupers and I want them to make it to the final phone call on Saturday where they will each fight for the one position on the team available right now. If you are a reader of this website and have not voted for either one of these men, now vote for both of them and push them to the final round by following these instructions. Send two emails, one for each candidate, to Vote@Evotri.com In one email write in the Subject field: http://www.commonmansyndrome.com In the second email write in the Subject field: http://triboomer.blogspot.com The top three vote gathering candidates will advance to a round of interviews by members of Team EvoTri. Voting ends at 11:59 PM on Friday, March 28, 2008

Nostalgia

I've finally had a moment to peruse some of your bad ass blogs and indulge in some vicarious living through your training - it hasn't had any effect on the enormity of my thighs (why, Why, WHY does the baby need weight on my ass? Can anybody tell me that?? Is it a balance thing, what?) it has definitely helped my morale. I had to stop running three months ago because my back just killed me. I'm tough but I'm not a martyr. I didn't post about it because it was too fresh, too painful. It still pretty much sucks, but there's a bigger, better picture I can appreciate now - and its living a squirming and blessed existence in my enormous belly! I swim every once in awhile but, sadly, my schedule, lack of cash flow and my incessant need for sleep tend to interfere with that being a regular thing. Also, its so much frickin work to get a swim suit on. Seriously, I think I burn more calories getting undressed, suited up and redressed than I do in the water. I've been walking whenever possible though this winter's frequent ice has made that a challenge. So, mostly, I veg out. I sleep. I rest. I read. I watch amazing numbers of Baby reality shows: Baby Story, Bringing Home Baby, The Baby Diaries. My husband thinks I'm nuts. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around the little bundle who's set to arrive in three months or so. And the Ironman worthy ordeal that will need to happen in order to get him here. I'm not afraid. Not even nervous, really. Yet. Its just somewhat incomprehensible at this time of my life. All our kids are older - my baby is eight and gangly, though he still tries to climb on my lap every once in awhile. And my belly has become his wooby. Everytime he sits or stands near me, he's trying to lift up my shirt so he can rub the belly. It reminds me of his nursing years - only with less nudity. I mean, I post my belly on the world wide web. I don't think I'd be up to exposing the "nummies" as they were so dubbed eight years ago. Though for the right amount of money . . . did I mention there was a cash flow problem?

ANYWAY - I've so enjoyed visiting you all and seeing what you are up to. I long for the days when I'll be able to revel in a brick that brings me to my knees - or at least to the nearest ice bath. For those long miles on the local trails. For being able to swim more than a couple hundred yards without stopping to catch my breath. Hell, I'd settle for going up the stairs without stopping to suck air!

So, here's to all of you - training and sweating and racing out there! For what its worth, you're keeping my dream alive, even as I lounge on my couch in my nest of a thousand pillows and watch my millionth episode of Baby Story - I know that I'll be back. And I know that my son will know that a brick isn't just something you build houses out of and that tri-ing is even better than trying. And that racing isn't something that only fast people do.

Yes We Can - Barack Obama Music Video

VOTE!!!

Half Way There

Those of you who know me from "before" may recognize this previous me - during T1 of my First and Only Oly Tri.

Then there was the first inkling of a belly - just a few short weeks after we found out that we were growing something up in 'dere.

Now, I'm at the half-way mark and looking considerably more, well, more.

So, yeah, Speedy is right. I've been doing a lot of griping, bitching and moaning. And I'm not sure that the above shot warrants all that griping, bitching and moaning. But, there it is. Only four months and change to go.

Drum Roll Please . . .

OK, the results are in and its unanimous. You want to know.

So . . . .


Its a boy!

And, yeah, silly me who can't see the forest for the trees needs to add that everything looks perfect. He's not overly big - yet. All his fingers, all his toes, perfect heart, brain, spine . . . the miracle of life is confirmed yet again. How amazing is it that a whole person can form from a moment of passion and two little cells.

As for the name, its been decided - though Candlebox is a very good suggestion.

Next time - a belly shot. You. Will. Be. Amazed.

Times, They Are A'Changin'

I begin training my replacement for work tomorrow. Talk about a reality check. To truly understand that I am replaceable, and being replaced - though this is what I asked for - is a scary thing. My plan is to work from home, initially taking in "overflow" from other smaller law firms. Eventually, I would like to write. I'm not sure the form that writing would take - I've considered copywriting, non-fiction, and fiction. I actually have the bones for at least two novels in my head and on paper. And there is my book idea on Heroes still in the very beginning stages. None of that is going to pay the bills right away, however. Its a year of new beginnings. And I'm asceart. But I've been asceart before and survived. Yet another reason to be thankful for last season and the plethora of lessons and triumphs that I took away from my dance with The Beast. And make no mistake about it, we WILL dance again. And again and again and again. My long term plan is Ironman when the baby in my belly goes into first grade. Until then, I will make the shorter distances my bones to chew on.

Meanwhile, my little bit is kicking away - becoming the reality for the Beast in my Belly metaphor of a thousand years ago. It seems like a thousand years ago, anyway. We had our ultrasound a few days ago. So I know. I know baby's name and parts and all that. So, as an informal poll, tell me - do you want to know? Should I keep it a secret to draw out the "suspense" or do you, like me, believe that suspense is false when somebody knows the answer? Let me know in the comments section as I don't have the def skills like Speed Racer to put one of those fancy poll type links in my blog. In that way, at least, I guess I'm old fashioned.

So, here we go, my sweet, gentle, bad ass readers. Another journey. Another adventure. Yeehaw!