Posts Tagged ‘ exercise ’

Why Don’t Babies Breathe Heavy?

Tuesday, November 29th, 2011

Run Run Run

How is it that toddlers don’t breathe heavy? Fia is never out of breath. Do they have Olympic-like cardiovascular systems? We love hiking in Griffith Park, near our house. There are these crazy hills that her little legs can walk/run up without her body huffing and puffing. I honestly don’t understand it. Even a marathon runner would start to pant. I sound like a hippo in heat. And when we play chase, she’ll run after us but her breathing remains at the same solid level. I’m really curious: Are toddlers equipped with a different lung capacity? It just kind of defies the human body. But It’s something I notice in tot-land.

Any docs or experts out there have the answer? Just curious.

Add a Comment

Running a Marathon at 38 Weeks Pregnant? That’s Just Plain Stupid.

Tuesday, October 11th, 2011

I’m a marathoner. And I have a baby. But running 26.2 miles while pregnant? I don’t think so. I wouldn’t do it at any stage of my pregnancy.

It’s being reported all over the place: the woman who ran the Chicago Marathon this weekend at 38 weeks pregnant, giving birth hours later. Sorry folks, but I think that’s just plain stupid.

The year and a half before I got pregnant I ran Chicago, Boston and New York. It’s not like you wake up and decide to run a marathon. There is extensive training involved. I’m going to take a wild leap here and guess that she trained throughout her entire pregnancy. Which means running in excess of 18 miles on a fairly regular basis in her 3rd trimester. No doubt about it, she put her body through some extreme stress.

Look, I’m all for staying in shape during your pregnancy. I ran through a decent deal of my first pregnancy. But more like 3 miles a few times a week. I ran slow, and took it easy.  No sprinting. At around 5 months I just decided to stop running in lieu of long hikes combined with lunges–which are low impact. When I asked my doctor about running hard, he said, “Why have a baby bouncing around in there like that? It just doesn’t sound like a great idea.” And I agreed. It seemed well, dare I say, logical??

Yeah, I know, baby seems fine. Yeah, I know, she did a run/walk, finishing in 6 hours and 25 minutes (that’s about a 15 minute mile).  But I think common sense should intervene on this one.

Forget the science. You are carrying a baby, not a bowling ball. This living, breathing thing is being sloshed around in your belly like a ship caught in a storm at sea. Who thinks that sounds like fun? As someone who gets massively seasick, not I.  But it goes beyond that. When you become pregnant, priorities naturally have to shift. Or at least they should. And in case she doesn’t know, some of these sacrifices continue for the next, oh, 18 years.

Lastly, don’t forget, this was a choice. She wasn’t forced to flee from her burning village or walk 26.2 miles to a refuge camp. She made a conscious decision to do this. I truly think she was putting her own needs (and maybe those of the spotlight) in front of her baby on this one.

I just hope she is equipped for the marathon of motherhood. And the sacrifices that follow.

Add a Comment

The Fog Will Clear

Tuesday, June 15th, 2010

I was strolling in Prospect Park yesterday. Fia was sleeping in her stroller. A couple of moms strolled past me with their newborns. They had that glazed over look I remember all too well from those early months. I was enveloped in a fog, but was okay with it (until my husband proclaimed me certifiable). As time went on, I began to lose my sanity. Lack of sleep, this huge life change and the monotony of it all started to get the best of me. My mom friends would reassure me, It’s normal. It will get better. Trust us. For the life of me, I didn’t know what they were talking about–even leaving the house felt like a chore–but I had no choice other than to hang in there. And wait.

Today, I feel like I am standing on the other side of a huge mountain. I’m not alone, but rather with all you other moms who have been there before me. And it’s my turn to say to those with the glazed-over look, It will get better. Trust me.

From my perch now, I want to share some of my most significant achievements and insights I’ve learned in this  journey. And for all you expectant moms and new moms who hear, It will get better, my advice is not to over-think or question it. Because it does. It is that simple.

Try and get out once a day. Even if it’s only walking around your backyard or to the mailbox. My first outing with Fia was around our block. Small steps but a huge sense of victory and accomplishment.

–The irrational, fearful thoughts will lessen over time. When I first had Fi, I was convinced a brown recluse spider was going to fall out of the ceiling vent into her crib. Seriously. This, despite the fact that I have never even seen a spider in my house, much less the reclusive one (which as the name suggests, isn’t an overly social insect). I went so far as to buy netting to put over her crib. My husband had had it at this point, stormed in her room, ripped the netting from my hands, and threw it out.

–I never thought I’d feel like my old self again. I was overwhelmed with both love and responsibility; angst and self-doubt. From the other side, I now feel like Fi and I are rocking this world together. And I’m not my old self. I’m better. Kinder. More compassionate. More patient.

–Pumping, feeding, washing bottles, doing laundry, changing diapers. Never sleeping. My life was never so tedious in those first months. That changes drastically. Hang in there.

–Now my day goes like this: wake up well rested. Go in to a smiling Fi. She stands in her crib, overjoyed to see me. I feed her. We play. We laugh. We laugh more. She naps. I write this blog. We meet friends. We go to the zoo. The park. The museum. We run. She tortures Wayne. We bathe. We feed. We sleep.

This is one of the few times in my life I’ve felt so content. I want to bottle it up and freeze it. But all the moms before me are saying, Just wait. It gets even better. And now, I don’t question them. I simply believe.

Add a Comment