Week 2

IMG_20131003_134335I took this picture on our front stoop as I headed out on my run on Friday.  Should I be surprised that I got caught in a torrential downpour?  (I actually really like running in the rain, except it does a number on your shoes and any electronics you might be carrying…which is why I almost always run with a dog poop bag for my phone.  Also comes in handy for other types of emergencies.)

SO!  Week 2 of exercise is in the books.  Unfortunately, after my last run (“run”), which was 5 miles, I started to have a little bit of that old shin pain that has plagued me for years.  God…

And so, last night I decided it was time for a change, I was going to take advantage of this clean slate and be responsible about these injuries and stop them before they start.

First: Even though it’s not a crazy distance, a friend of mine made a good point that jumping from 3 to 5 miles in 2 weeks is a significant increase in mileage (percentage-wise).  I think she’s right.  So I am waiting a few days until I feel no pain at all before running again, and when I do start up we’re going back to shorter distances.  Build slower.

Second: I realized that my shoes, even though I didn’t run much the past 6 months, have quite a few miles on them.  Time for a new pair.  Ordered them on Zappos (but the older model…so much cheaper).

With those two decisions made i was feeling pretty productive.  So my new super-proactive self decided the next step would be to establish a cross training/strengthening routine to prevent further injury.  I have some exercises I’ve done in the past, but it was time for something new.

So I Googled “shin pain from running”, compiled info from different sites (mostly from Dr Jordan Metzl’s videos from Runners World), and put together a routine of butt/hip/core strengthening exercises.

With my list written out, I changed into my living room exercise outfit (booty shorts that no longer fit, a tank top with coffee stains that I can’t wear in public, and my slippers) and proceeded to do a modified (it was, after all, my first day) version of the exercises, including plyometric (that soon turned into non-plyometric) squats and lunges.  I did about 1/3 of the squats suggested with less reps and more rest.

ANDDD!  …today I can’t walk.  My legs kept randomly giving out on me as I made the bed this morning.  I didn’t eat lunch until 4 because the baby was in “I’m going to scream if you put me down” mode and was worried that I would fall over with her in my arms squatting to get something out of the fridge.  And forget sitting down.  Paul heard me fall onto the toilet in the other room and thought something horrible had happened.

So, yeah.

Schmucktober

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Just kidding!  I love October!  It’s fall!  Who doesn’t love fall?  It means football.  Pumpkin beer.  Nice weather. Keeneland!  What isn’t to like.  Except this year it does mean…

20 days until I go back to work.  20 days until I don’t spend every second with this thing.

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Here’s to hoping we can nail down a sleep schedule in the next 20 days.  Ha.

Also, in case you missed it, a new world record was set at the Berlin Marathon this weekend.  2:03:23, breaking the old record by 15 seconds.  (If you’re wondering, that’s averaging 4:42/mile.  What.  The.  Eff.)

The Science of Sport was tweeting a real time analysis of the race.  Seriously amazing.

Speaking of schmucks, ignore the dude promoting a prostitution website who jumped in front of Kipsang at the marathon, broke the tape, and ruined the finish line pic.

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Like, really.

The Chicken

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As I was walking down Stanton Street early one Sunday morning, I saw a chicken a few yards ahead of me.  I was walking faster than the chicken, so I gradually caught up.  By the time we approached Eighteenth Avenue, I was close behind.  The chicken turned south on Eighteenth.  At the fourth house along, it turned in at the walk, hopped up the front steps, and rapped sharply on the metal door with it’s beak.  After a moment, the door opened and the chicken went in.

LINDA ELEGANT
Portland, Oregon

Story from I Thought My Father Was God: And Other True Tales from NPR’s National Story Project 

Mother Knows Best

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Today is my mother’s birthday.  Somebody is super excited about it.

In honor of her birthday, below some sage advice that she has bestowed upon me over the course of the last 32 years that I will be passing along to my own daughter:

  • Always say thank you.
  • Babytalk is not attractive.  Ever.
  • Always wear nice underwear, in case you get hit by a car and they have to cut your clothes off in public (this has come in handy more often than I ever thought it would.)
  • When things seem really terrible, take a shower.  You will come out the other end feeling at the very least a little better than you did going in.
  • Eat tomatoes.
  • A clean house is one of the best gifts you can give someone at the end of the day.
  • When you are under a lot of pressure to perform and start to feel it getting to you, remember: all you can do is your best.  That’s it.  So stop stressing.

Happy birthday, Mom.  We love you.

Margaret Meagan Golden Gate San Francisco circa sept/oct 1981

And we’re back…?

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First post-baby run, in numbers:

  • Miles: 3
  • Time: ~30 min
  • Distance I got before I stopped in pain, turned around, and went back home to put on a second sports bra: 1 driveway
  • Turds taken by Spike: 2
  • Turds I kept willing Spike to take during the run so I would have an excuse to stop: 15
  • Gallons of sweat I had to wash off my body when I was done: 8 (aprox)
  • Leg cramps: 4
  • Times I considered stopping and walking: one million
  • Level of wanting to die due to both physical and psychological distress, on a scale of 1-10: 12

In my defense, it was really humid out.

waking up

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When it’s 2am and my alarm goes off, again, to wake her up for another feeding, and it’s like the MOST PAINFUL THING EVER to open my eyes and drag myself into an upright position, when I pick her up and unwrap her from her swaddle…

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TOUCHDOOOOWN!  Every time.

Is this by design?  I mean, she’s 6 lbs.  How can you stay angry?

P.S.  Speaking of waking up, or a re-awakening of some part of my pre-baby life, had a doctor appointment yesterday, got the OK to run and swim again.  Like, woah.  Excitement.

Requiem for a Chicken

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It was a dark and stormy night.  Literally.

With all the chaos with the new baby and people visiting, the past few weeks have caused us to kind of fall out of our normal routine.  So when the severe weather sirens went off one night as we were on our way out the door to dinner at the inlaws, and I thought I heard Paul say “I’m going to go put the girls away now because of the weather”, like we normally would, I shouldn’t have assumed that’s what happened.

Long story short, we realized at 10pm that no one had actually put the chickens away.  This isn’t the first time that’s happened.  Early on I was always afraid that if we didn’t put the chickens on lockdown in the coop right at sundown one of the many critters that comes out at night would get in the pen and have a feast.

img_5099our super secure entrance to the chicken pen

But inevitably, there were a few times when for whatever reason we couldn’t get home before it got dark.  And every time they’d put themselves to bed and were fine.

This time, though.  Paul went out to put them away and came back in cursing.  And I knew.

You see, while Romy and Michele would always put themselves away, Brunhilda liked to perch on top of the coop.

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And when we’d come in to close everything up she’d jump down and run in the coop.  Sometimes if it was really late before we could make it back there, she’d make her way into the coop on her own.  But not always.

That night, apparently she decided to stay up and perch.  And something got in the pen.  And it got Brunhilda.

I’ll spare you the details, because they aren’t pretty, but there were feathers everywhere.    Romy, per usual, had put herself away and was fine, hidden inside the coop.  But poor B didn’t survive.

Even though I had kind of assumed when we got the chickens that this would eventually happen (I actually expected it to happen like the first week), we felt (or still feel) absolutely terrible.

So Paul and I headed out in the dark, in a torrential downpour with lightning flashing and thunder rumbling, to clean up the remains and put her to rest.

The next day we decided that with a newborn and Paul back at work, it probably wasn’t the best time to try to introduce a new chicken to the coop again (which, in retrospect, I realize I didn’t even cover completely the first time we tried to replace Michele with a new chicken.  Probably because it was traumatic on so many levels.  But trust me, it involves a lot of quarantining and violent pecking and can be an ordeal.)

IMAG3602quarantined chicken

And so, after a year and a half of quality time and quality eggs, Paul drove out to the farm the next day and dropped Romy off with her old flock.

He said that dropping her off was like dropping a child for her first day at preschool.

That afternoon Paul and my dad disassembled the magical hidden chicken farm.

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And so ends an era.  Even though it was the right decision for us, it still feels like there is a chicken-shaped hole in our lives.  No early morning clucking.  Nobody to greet you when you open the garage door.

At least we have something else to help fill it.

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Even though she doesn’t lay eggs (fortunately).

Farewell girls.  We miss you.

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Happiest Lady On the Block

20130912_195429going for a walk

A few big events that happened this week that will most likely effect you not at all:

  1. Munchkinhead had a weigh in on Weds with a goal of 6 lbs 5 oz (which would mean she had gained an ounce a day over the past week.)  She weighed in at 6 lbs 8.5 oz.  That is a 10oz gain in 7 days.  Freaking.  A.   And as fun as overachieving is, the real reason that this is exciting is because it means…
  2. We can start feeding her EVERY 4 HOURS AT NIGHT.  Praise be.  Which meant…
  3. Last night she only woke up once to eat.  And let me tell you, there is nothing more beautiful than 3 straight hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Holy crap, I feel amazing.
  4. It is currently 65 degrees outside with no humidity.   Hello, fall.  So nice to see you.

Put your walking (hopefully soon running) shoes on…it’s time to break out the BOB and hit the road.  To quote a friend, heaven is a Kentucky fall day.

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Happy Friday.

Why Buy…

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…when you can rent?

The price seems a little steep, but for the right market…

Via Grist:

…“Homestead Phil & Jenn” have a proposal for you. They will rent you chickens. For $350, they will show up at your house in May, drop off two hens, a chicken coop, enough chicken feed to last you six months, and feed dishes. (If you live more than 50 miles away from a town that’s about 35 miles northeast of Pittsburgh, there’s an additional delivery fee.) Come November, they will come back, pick the chickens up, and keep them warm and cozy through the winter, when they don’t lay as many eggs.

Moo

IMG_20130905_203636oh heeeeey

So, obviously I lied.  More on the baby was not coming sooner.  It was coming much later.

I may have started making to-do lists that extend beyond getting out of my pajamas at some point during the day, but that doesn’t mean any of it actually gets done.  Ever.

So, babycakes has been a little slow gaining weight.

IMG_20130905_134211_264teeny tiny

Nothing terrible, but she’s a little behind the curve, which means we are on a strict feeding regimen.

So I feed.  Then pump.  Then supplement her with the pumped milk.  Then feed and feed and feed some more.  Then pump.  Every 2.5 hours.  Which, when you take into account that each feeding/pumping session takes about an hour, means max 90 minutes free in between at a time. All day.  And night.  YEAH.  (Though during the day, she has been demanding food every hour and a half or so.  I have no idea how a creature that small, with a stomach the size of an almond, can consume that much liquid.)

20130901_110358if only cupcakes were an option

Initially I was like, man, maternity leave is going to be AWESOME.  I’ll get up in the morning, we’ll go for long walks and get coffee, I’ll have extra time to read and blog and be productive…until I realized that if I want to get coffee, that means I have to want to stay awake.  Which so far I have not.  And if I want to go for a long walk the baby has to be cool not eating on demand every hour or so.  Which she isn’t.  And blogging/being productive requires (at least a few) neurons to be firing.  Which they have not been.

IMG_20130906_191610dad getting his supplemental feeding time in

And so the valuable days of maternity leave (or, since my office doesn’t have maternity leave, all of my vacation and accrued sick leave that I am currently using up) tick by, with me spending the majority of my time sitting, exhausted and milk-soaked, in my rocking chair, baby in hand, hooked up to a pump, zoning out to the WAH-wah-WAH-wah-WAH-wah of the machine, dreaming of what we’re GOING to do just as soon as things calm down.

At least I have some good company.

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In the meantime, I’m going to keep researching marathons for next year.