Confession time: I talk a good game. I’m just maybe not so good at playing it.
Training for this half marathon has been a roller coaster of emotions and strengths and weaknesses and everything else that goes up and down over time. When I started training for it in December, I was running a sub-8:30 pace for even my longer runs — faster than that, even, for some of my shorter runs. What’s even more? I was feeling great. And confident as a runner. And as someone who was finally done looking back at who I was and being shocked because, ohmigosh, I’m actually running.
My initial goal for this half? 2:05. It would have been a PR by at least four minutes. And, if my training kept up as it was going, I maybe could have knocked even more off of it.
I was excited and really looking forward to this race.
And, then, the most amazingly wonderful thing happened.
That’s a baby in there! Not a Sunday dinner.
And I got tired. Really, really tired. And sometimes, Pickle’s desperate pleas for a nap won out over an evening run. Because, holy cow!, I’m actually growing a human. (Thankfully, I never did get any morning sickness — for this I am immensely grateful.) And when I did run — and I didn’t miss a single long run (WIN!) — my exhaustion became an evil monster dragging me down, slowing me down. My 8:30s quickly became 9:30s then 10s then 10:30s. Now, I’m doing a run-walk on all of my runs, no matter the distance (10 miles, 6 miles, 3 miles). Run a mile, walk a quarter-mile — lather, rinse, repeat.
And, from many of my runs, I came home even more tired. And, worse yet, defeated — even as I tell myself (and truly believe) what a gift it is to be able to run while pregnant and what a gift it is to be carrying this child. And:
“Don’t worry, Kimi Joy, running will be there after the baby’s born — and so will your PR.”
Still. That voice? That one in the back of my head who pushes me (admittedly, sometimes too hard) and is hard on me? She’s making me feel bad about how far I feel I’ve “fallen.” As much as I believe that if you run, you’re a runner — regardless of your speed — I miss my 8:30s. Because that’s when I felt BEST as a runner, as myself. That’s when I felt most proud.
Right now? I’m not feeling proud. I’m stressed out and worried about this race — this race I was so excited to be running and so looking forward to. I find myself more nervous than I’ve been for any race. Even more nervous than I was for the marathon.
I think it’s because I don’t know what to expect.
Running while pregnant is new for me. My body feels different, it reacts differently. It’s harder to carry it over distances — even though I’ve not gained too much weight. I can’t get a handle on how to fuel this body. Because my tried-and-true fuel for my long runs? My body is processing them completely differently. And I just feel like I can’t get it right. Nothing feels right. Plus, I get tired so much sooner than I did pre-Pickle. Plus, obviously, I’m slower. And, while I’m not competitive against other people, I am immensely competitive against myself. And when I’m out there, running three minutes per mile slower than my previous races? It bothers me. More than I care to admit.
Oh, and did I mention that I’ll be sporting Mr. B’s running clothes because none of mine fit me anymore? (Picking out a fun race outfit is, like, 75 percent of the fun of racing.)
Please don’t get me wrong — this baby is more important than any race I could ever dream of running. I love this baby, I love our growing family — more than I ever dreamed possible (I mean, I’ve never even met Pickle and already, he/she is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I “sleep” — and the thing that most commonly appears in my dreams at night). And I really do feel honored to get to run this race with Pickle. (YAY for Pickle’s first 13.1!!!!)
I just wish I didn’t feel so weak and tired and nervous. I wish I felt more ready going in to this race.* For me and for Pickle.
*Truth be told, pre-race nerves and jitters are nothing new. In fact, they’re part of my pre-race routine. I think they’re just more prevalent this time around because it isn’t just me out there running. It’s this tiny, darling, precious gift who is just along for the ride.