Trimesters Part 2

I've just made it through the second leg of my pregnancy, which was a big improvement over the first.  I regained some of the energy I had lost, allowing me to be a little more active, though still much less than prior to the pregnancy, which is to be expected.

The second trimester was filled with all kinds of excitement, including a trip to New Zealand, feeling the baby move, finding out it's a girl, seeing her face for the first time (!), and eating lots of avocados.  Yum.

Despite all the excitement, however, it has still been a rough transition to being unable to exercise as much as I would like--I simply don't feel like myself if I'm not active.  I hear many women talk about their pregnancies with fondness, saying they really enjoyed being pregnant.  I, on the other hand, cannot say that.  But I can say that it will all be worth it in the end.

The biggest lesson I learned in this trimester has been about control--or rather, the lack of it.  A good friend of mine who is a runner shared her wisdom and experience, saying that athletes can often have a tough time with pregnancy because they are so used to controlling their bodies that it's difficult to handle when things go haywire (and whether it's true or not, I heard that the female body changes more during pregnancy than mens' bodies change in a lifetime.)  Instead, we try to transfer that control to other areas of our lives, sort of like a water-filled jar that's broken open...the water must flow somewhere.  Once she told me this, it was like a lightbulb coming on in my brain and I could see this very thing happening in my life.  As a triathlete, I became very good at training my body, making it swim/bike/run as hard or as far as I wanted it to go, as well as controlling the types and amounts of food I ate.  But after getting pregnant, I lost much of that control, only to try and exert it (unsuccessfully) in other areas of my life.  Now that I realize this, I am working on relinquishing that control, knowing that God has a different plan for my life right now.  When life changes and the things that we hold onto go away, he remains.  When I am weak, he is strong.  This verse is a source of encouragement for me as I wait upon the Lord to renew my strength: 

The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. -Isaiah 40:28-31

In the meantime, I will keep pushing (figuratively and literally!) to the finish line of this pregnancy, anxious for the prize that awaits me.  Stay tuned for part 3....

From Triathlons to Trimesters

It is time for a different kind of transition--a life transition--one that will last for nine months:  Pregnanacy!  My husband and I are expecting our first child on or around July 4, 2010.  And in the spirit of tri, here are three thoughts regarding my first trimester (which, thankfully, ends on December 26!)

First is change.  Life as I know it will never be the same.  Some of the changes are bitter while most are sweet.  Since becoming pregnant, it's sort of like I've been given a new pair of glasses that enables me to notice things I've never really noticed before, things like how unique each person in this world truly is, or the miracle of a baby, or how seemingly significant things in my life really aren't as important as they once were.  And all this after just eleven weeks of being pregnant!

Second is humility.  This one actually makes me laugh at myself.  Before I even knew I was pregnant, I did exhaustive research on the effects of exercise during pregnanacy; I wanted to make certain I didn't hurt my chances of getting pregnant, or harm the developing baby once I did if I were to exercise too much.  I laugh at this now because once "morning" sickness (such a misnomer!) set in, the last thing I wanted to do was exercise.  I could barely even walk a mile without losing my breath!  Considering the amount of training I've been doing, this was quite humbling indeed.  It was a rather difficult adjustment, and I had to keep reminding myself that there was a reason for it and it would likely pass after the first trimester.  I just need to do the best I can in the circumstance I find myself in.  Plus, pregnancy is in and of itself similar to high-altitude training:  There's less oxygen to work with, and it takes time for the body to adjust.  But once my body does adjust, my lungs will be more efficient than they've ever been before :)  Also, even though much of what I do affects the developing baby, it's humbling to realize that most of the growth and development is beyond my control.  There is only so much I can do; the rest is in God's hands.

And third is fear--not the kind that frightens (though there is some of that, too), but rather the kind that leaves one in awe, blows one's mind, or take's one's breath away.  I am in awe of what's happening inside of my body, at the baby being formed.  In Psalm 139, David writes, "You [the Lord] created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."  As I write, the fetus inside me is likely developing a unique set of fingerprints, unlike anyone else's in the world!  The things that appear ordinary--people, snow, sunsets, etc.--become extraordinary when we open our eyes to see just how unique God creates each person, snowflake, and sunset.  No matter how many there are, there is never a duplicate--even identical twins have different fingerprints (and no, we aren't having twins!)  Of the billions and billions of people from the beginning of time, we are each "fearfully and wonderfully made."  It blows my mind.

On My Knees

Shortly after running my first marathon in June of this year, I began having pain in my right knee.  I assumed the pain was normal for post-marathon trauma and that my knee would heal within a few weeks.  But alas, that was not to be the case.

Now, four months and five visits doing active release therapy with a chiropractor and one visit with a sports medicine doctor later, I am still unable to run more than a few miles without pain in my knee.  The sports medicine doctor came up with two working diagnoses ("working" since we couldn't reproduce the pain at the doctor's office, much like a car that won't make the noise it was brought to the mechanic for.)  The diagnoses are:  1) an atypical iliotibial (IT) band syndrome, or 2) a strain in the popliteal tendon, a tendon attached to the popliteus muscle on the back of the knee.  Both diagnoses have to do with the tendons in the knee joint.  The doctor referred me to a physical therapist, who will hopefully be able to further identify and treat what is causing the pain.  It is all very frustrating to say the least, especially since running helps me de-stress from the chaos of life, and is one of the ways I worship the God who created me, tendons and all.

I feel a bit like how Jacob in Genesis must have felt when he wrestled with God--Jacob was so strong that he overpowered even God, until God injured a tendon in Jacob's hip.  It was a hard lesson in humility for Jacob as he learned that God can both enable and disable at will according to his good purpose (though it may seem anything but good at the time.)  Likewise, I am humbled because of an injured tendon in my knee, and I am praying for God to enable me to run once again, not for my glory but for his.  I have hope yet that through God, I will have the strength to stand.  But for now I'm on my (injured) knees.

Marathon Cheerleader

I went to cheer on a good friend at the Bellingham Marathon this past weekend, and had such a blast.  It was a small marathon, with 281 finishers (compared to 5647 finishers at the Seattle Rock 'n' Roll Marathon I did earlier this year.)  The course was beautiful, and included some trail running alongside Chuckanut Mountain, which is way better than the streets and buildings of a city.  If I do a marathon next year, this one will certainly be under consideration.

Anyway, I was a little worried that it would make me sad to watch other people running, since I can't run very far right now due to an IT-band injury, but I got over it and was able to cheer wholeheartedly for Andrea.  I cheered for her in a few spots, but it was at mile 23.5 that my eyes started to well up as she passed by.  There's just something poignant about watching someone fight so hard to reach the finish line, after they've worked so hard to get there.  She finished in just under four hours, achieving her goal.  Way to go, Andrea!  You are awesome.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Park

I went for a 24-mile recovery ride today and felt great.  I rode from home to Marymoor Park via the Sammamish River Trail, smiling and nodding to people as I passed them along the way.  I even saw a few teammates out enjoying the nice weather, too.  After I returned home, I cleaned my bike up and put everything away.  It wasn't until then that I noticed I still had my race number from the Black Hills triathlon on my helmet.  Oops!  I wonder if anyone noticed?  :)