Happy Things

I know this is kinda backwards from how it's supposed to be, but having a baby has done wonders for my social life. In a good way. I've managed to meet more people in the past few weeks than I have the year+ I've lived here. Having a baby has helped me befriend the neighbors upstairs, another girl in the neighborhood I walk and run with, two other girls I'm about to start running with (btw I had a great run yesterday- like, the best I've had since I was 5 mo preggo...), another couple+baby from our childbirth class, 10 other girls I meet with weekly, plus any other "playgroup" I may sporadically drop in on. Of course its a different type of social network, but it's nice. And maybe one day we'll start talking about something other than our babies and birth stories.. :p

Meeting all of these other new moms, however, has confirmed the fact I am the youngest person in the city with a child. Which is funny, because if facebook is any indication, I'm the last person in my high school graduating class to have one.

In other news, Solomon's newfound head control (he's had it to some degree for a while, but now all of a sudden it is pretty respectable) has let us explore new positions in our carriers. I still like our Mei Tai and Moby for different purposes, but no longer being restricted to the cradle hold in our Baby K'Tan has reconfirmed why we fell in love with it. So quick and easy and comfy! :)

Ok, I have a walking date along the Embarcadero!

The Big 6

So, all the wonders and marvels of the 6 week mark are upon us!

In terms of little boo, it means he is now 9lb, 9 oz. And he is smiling and laughing a lot. Sometimes to weird things. 'Mama, you put me on the changing table. Haha, you so silly...' But sometimes it's in response to more natural stimuli.

Aaand, Solomon's vestibular system is very intact. He's very sensitive to postural changes when he's upset. When I have him, he prefers to be held against my chest and bounced. When Gerard has him, Solomon only settles for lying on his side on G's legs, or being held in the Superman pose. This leads to lots of superhero themed singing in our house.

I'm also happy to report that for about a week and a half now he's really gotten into a sleeping rhythm-- one that usually includes a 5-6.5 hour stint of sleeping, followed by another 3-4 hour block after a quick feed. We've had one or two blips in this cycle, but never less than 3.5 hours, so I'm rather pleased.

What 6 weeks also means, however, is that I can be a normal person now and exercise, bathe, and do whatever else I want. Go me! I had my first run on Monday, and went out for about 3 miles, though I had to walk after 12 minutes. Today, I ran for over 22 minutes before I had to walk, and did an extra half mile overall. It felt so good to be out running again!

Ok, gonna go give the boo a bath, which he hates by the way. I can't decide if it's better to bathe him when he's already fussy, or to try it when he's happy and ruin his good mood.

Getting Slow

So, my jogging with intermittent walking has now become walking with intermittent jogging. I've been having difficulties with running recently, aside from the back problems I was having a month or so ago. Now I feel this stretch/tightening/something on the underside of my belly whenever I start to run. It starts almost immediately when I begin, and although it's not particularly painful, I'm being pretty conservative since I haven't mastered what's normal belly behavior or not.

Although I am hesitant to admit I'm now considering walking as exercise, I can get my heart rate up pretty easily by increasing my pace up the hills. And I'm at no loss to find hills. So, I'm mixing in this "hillwork" with other nonpainful exercises like the elliptical, and of course my yoga. For my armwork, I carry around my carseat with a 10lb dumbbell tucked inside. That's plenty for my puny little arms.

I've had two and a half days off work and it feels soooo good. I've been super productive with errands and things around the apartment, but still managed to feel rested and relaxed. It's been wonderful, and I'm super ecstatic I still have Saturday and Sunday left before going back to work!!

Heat Wave

So, boo boo got to experience lots of fun new things this weekend. All of which will serve to torture him later. You want to go to a Giants game? But you went when you were 26 weeks- remember? It was boiling outside and you complained the whole time and kept asking for ice cream. I'm gonna be an awesome mom.

It was unusually hot this weekend for San Francisco standards, which means it got in the 80's. Not really anything notable from the perspective of anywhere else I've lived, but I have very quickly turned into one of those California types that cannot tolerate anything outside of their 15 degrees of standard comfort level that we have all grown so accustomed to. So being at this baseball game, drenched in a mix of sweat and sunscreen was downright miserable until I parked myself in unclaimed seats higher up, under some shade. After the game we walked around pathetically trying to get food (me) and drinks (everyone else) somewhere that would serve us right away. Of course we were competing with the thousands of other spectators that walked out of the stadium at the same time. We finally settled on a place. After devouring my first entree- a delicious pulled pork sandwich with fries, I decided I was still hungry. The mac n cheese listed on the kids' menu, along with a root beer float, sounded like the perfect combination to both satisfy me and make me feel like an 8 year old. I was understandably disappointed when I was served Kraft mac n cheese. I kid you not. I've opened that blue box enough times in my day to know it when I see it, and I was served about 35 cents worth of Kraft macaroni and cheese for $4.95. Our friend Randall, on the other hand, received a different surprise with his order of hot wings. There, among the chicken, was a lone piece of bacon drenched in hot sauce. Why? How? Just some of the questions we never did answer. Surprising and somewhat disturbing was the lack of surprise or interest the waiter expressed when he was told. Even more surprising was how delicious the combination was, according to Randall. I'll take his word for it.

The heat was even less appreciated on Sunday, the day of Bay to Breakers. A pregnant girl running a 12k in SF is enough of a challenge; I didn't need the added heat factor. I ended up running about 4.5 miles of it (minus 3/4 of the Hayes hill), and then walked the last 3 miles with Gerard when I saw him on the sidelines cheering me on. It was very nice to see and finish with him, especially because it was the exact time my back really started bothering me for the first time in my pregnancy. What we didn't take into account, at least fully, was that Gerard parked near his cheering spot at mile 4.5. And the finish line was at mile 7.5. Which means the car is another 3 miles away. Sweet. Obviously by this point my shirt was long gone. Which I didn't think would be a big deal, considering we were amongst a crowd of well over 50,000 runners, dressed as anything from Santa Claus, to warriors, to dozens of downright naked people. But apparently you can never underestimate people's tendency to stare at a pregnant belly. People were giving double-takes, pointing it out to their friends; I felt like a sideshow. I'm surprised people didn't try to get their picture taken with me. Hey! It's a pregnant girl! Look Ma- a real life pregnant girl!!!

Fulfilled Dreams

I went for a run on the Embarcadero the other day, and two good things happened:

1. Some joggers got passed by a 5-month* pregnant girl.

2. I got to take these pictures I tried taking the other week...

Gerard seems to think there is a set "stop date" for when I have to stop running.

I seem to think he's full of BS.

I'm hungry all the time. And farting all of the time, too, if you were curious.

*Also, I really don't understand the week-month conversion in pregnancy-world. It's pretty accepted fare that a pregnancy is 40 weeks, which does not = the legendary 9

months. The 40 weeks accounts for 2 weeks before you conceived, and 38 weeks of actual baby-tummy action.

So, I'm 22 weeks. Due Aug 24. So, If at August 24 I'm 9 months, this means that I won't be 5 months pregnant til April 24, which is the logic my sister used to calculate her months. I guess this is as good of logic as any, but in my heart I feel I should already be 5 months.

You are wondering why San Francisco has a giant bow and arrow. So am I.

One last tidbit for the day: Gerard has never heard of Dear Abby.

Lost Dreams

I had such an ambitious agenda set out for my camera this weekend. I was going to take and post new pictures of my belly this weekend- complete with my rapidly disappearing hip bones and shallowing belly button. Maybe there'd be a cute Easter motif. I was also going to take pictures on my run this afternoon. I had it all planned out- I'd go to the Embarcadero straight from work, had my clothes packed, my hat, my sunglasses- everything. I had my camera, which I knew still had a dead battery, so I brought my charger to work so everything would be ready to go. I even had specific scenes in my head of what I wanted to take pictures of. 

If you know me at all, you've probably guessed by now that my camera battery is still sitting in the charger at work. So you'll just have to trust me that it was a beautiful day on the Embarcadero today, with sunny and clear skies. And you'll also have to trust me that my hip bones are gone and my belly button is preparing it's goodbye speech. 

On another hand, I had an amazingly good run this afternoon. Easily the best run I've had since my pre-booboo days. Which probably says less about how well I ran today and more about how poorly I've been running.

running

You know how most people when the run consistently get stronger and faster at a steady rate?

It's a little disheartening to see that each day you go for a run you are slower and more tired than the day before...

On a happier note, thought, I finally felt justified in starting to attend the prenatal yoga class I've had my eye on. I finally felt well-established enough in my pregnancy to attend- that, and it's the first Saturday in a while I've actually been home for. Let me just say this class was awesome. And, there were about 3 girls there I was further along then, so I wasn't embarassed. And there were a couple psychos in the 39-40 week, so we were a wide bunch. But the class was awesome. So much better than just doing modifications in a regular yoga class.  First of all, the chick's name is Jane Austin. For real. She gave us all these funky moves to help the baby be in the appropriate position, and it was challenging enough that I had to break the poses a couple times to rest, and I was sore this morning. Let me just tell you now there is not a preggo yoga dvd on the market that is more intense than the normal stretching I do before a jog. And, I don't really stretch at all. The mostly just tell you to lift your arms up. Then widen your legs. Now hug your belly. Yay! Aren't you so excited to be a mommy? Let's chant.

I Can Show You The World

Sooo, Aladdin was on tv this evening, so I was of course watching it during my run, because, ya know, I can. So, I had almost forgotten how much I freaking love this movie. I'm there, sweating my ass off, knees killing me while I'm running because I went and got fat, but Aladdin is making me smile to myself. I'm sure people watching me thought I was high, smiling and laughing to a cartoon.

Watching Aladdin also got me even more pumped for my impending trip to DISNEYLAND next week!!! I came home singing Never Had a Friend Like Me (or whatever that song is called), and tried to warn Gerard about how incredibly annoying I'm going to be our entire trip. I'm pretty sure he's nervous, but I don't think he gets the full extent of my relentless love of belting Disney songs. Yaaaaaaaaay!! :)

Today Was A Day of Firsts

Today was the first day in our history in San Francisco that it called for rain. This was highly anticipated by Gerard and I, as we haven't seen rain since the day we drove out of Nashville. Outside the apartment, it looked the part, what with dreary skies and a light mist replacing the usual sun beating in through our windows. So I wore my dry wick tank and brought my trusty hat and Kota and I were off for our run. But instead, today was the first day the beach had bluer, clearer skies than our apartment. This really shouldn't be surprising, as it is well known that anytime I wear my trusty hat it doesn't rain (the only exception being the Cleveland Marathon...). Anyway, here we were with unexpectedly nice weather. Kota celebrated by marking this as the first day she voluntarily trotted through the water without pulling or darting away from it. She actually ran-swam deeper into the water while we were playing in it after our run. And today was the first day (because of the "rain") I didn't bring my camera to capture the moment. It was the first day I was nice (as opposed to bitchy) to a woman who's unleashed dog jumped on Kota. Partly because she was very apologetic, and partly because both dogs were playing nicely together. Today was the first day I ran the whole way without walking! This is especially surprising considering my weekday laziness of recent. And, it was the first day I drove to the beach and back without relying on Mark Jr at all. (Mark Jr's predecessor was my first electronic love, Mark, my original GPS who recently got laryngeal cancer and was subsequently rendered useless to me. The good people at Garmin decided Mark Jr. was a better option than chemo for Mark.... I promise I'll be more understanding if this happens to my non-electronic love). Anyway, my GPS-less trip is no more remarkable than it sounds. I'm just really bad with directions. 

Necessitating it's own paragraph was my first time running on the beach at the same time ROTC was training there. They were running a fair amount upland, whereas I was right on the waterline (I doubt either of those are real words, but you get the drift), but I was in the process of passing the massive lot of them. Until, that is, I noticed there chants were getting louder. At first I was all 'Yay- go America' until I realized their chants were getting louder because they had made a 90 degree turn and were now prepared for a direct collision with me. Luckily Kota and I made it out of their path of destruction unharmed. This was toward the beginning of my run, and I had noticed they also had a tent and cones set up nearby. On my way back toward the end of my run, I got to witness fun little relays they were doing- complete with doing wheelbarrows! (you know, like you did when you were kids and one person holds your feet up and you run forward on your hands), spinning around with your forehead on the cone (I thought this was only done on cheesy reality competitions), and carrying buckets of sand. It all looked pretty fun (except for the buckets of sand part) and for a second I wanted to hop in and join them, but I decided the beachtime fun wasn't worth the tradeoff of the whole Army-thing that comes with it. 

I had another rant I wanted to talk about, but this post is already pretty long, so I'm going to save it until next week and pretend like it was an original thought.

Pass the tiger balm

I'm often asked "Besiege, we know what your runs look like at the beach, and we know how wonderful your gym is, but what are your regular runs on the road like?" So I have prepared my answer for you, my loyal readers. So I laced up my Saucony's and grabbed my trusty Lululemon shorts with my camera pocket and got going.

0.1 miles*

San Francisco wouldn't be San Francisco without some massive hills. But do they have to start right outside my apt?This is the first thing I see when I start to run. Yay...

0.4 miles

Luckily, with hard work comes reward, such as this lovely view of downtown.

0.6 miles

This is me looking back down at the hill I just climbed. This incline is fondly referred to- mostly by me- as "You've gotta be effing kidding me."

You know it's a bad hill when it's even harder to go down than up.

1.0 mile

This is a darling little community garden atop a hill. This had the potential to be a much nicer picture, but cut me some slack, I'm on the move

2 miles

A big boat. And water. Yeah it's pretty, but my legs are burning! I know you are wondering why these hills are not getting any easier for me. Let me present Evidence A and Evidence B. I rest my case.

                                                     3 miles

Random pair of men's platform shoes abandoned neatly on the sidewalk. Apparently someone walked a mile in a taller man's shoes, and didn't like it.

             

          

Home sweet home. 

Gimme some Gatorade and Tiger Balm asap!

*All mileage markers are a fragment of my imagination and should be taken with a grain of salt. Sea salt.

My Gym is Better Than Your Gym

I love my gym. I really think it's wonderful for numerous reasons that I've decided to share/brag to you about.

1. It's close by and immune to traffic.

2. I got a super discount for being Gerard's "domestic partner" and parking is included!

3. It's temperature-controlled.

4. There are no hills when I don't want any hills, which is approximately 99.72% of the time. 

5. There's plenty of people to look at and think to yourself, "That bitch is still running. I can't walk now."

6. Miniscule chance of being hit by a car or cat-called.

but, most importantly.... 

7. Personal television screens on each and every cardio machine. Yes, friends, every upright bike, recumbant bike, elliptical machine, step machine and treadmill can watch whatever they so choose. Just plug in your headphones and click away. No more squinting your eyes just to watch that dumb Mtv show with closed captioning at your old univeristy gym. Welcome to the future.

I realize that my excitment over the list above debunks my ego of being a "real" runner. But I'm okay with that. I never said I wasn't a hypocrite. 

So I got to do my run today while watching Biggest Loser, which I love. I missed the first episode, but I'm pretty confident it went something like this:

contestant: Hi, I'm Billy. I want to lose weight.

Bob Harper: I'm going to bust your ass and make you run til you cry. 

Billy in his testimonial: Eek. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

So I'm breaking a sweat, watching all these guys on tv and around me work out too. Life is good. Unfortunately, Bob didn't give me a big ol' bear hug when I was finished. Oh well. 

I do, however, venture into the outside world at times, and I admit I do need the Ipod to get me through a lot of my runs. That darn cord is always getting in my way, so this is totally on my wish list.

A model of preparedness

Everyone will be proud to know I was both a Girl Scout growing up, and a counselor at a GS camp for two summers in college, so I obviously know about being prepared.

So this morning, I'm getting all packed and ready for our trip to the beach to go for our run. Learning from my mistakes from last week, I pack an extra towel, and enough water not just for Kota and I to both drink, but also enough that we can rinse off with. I also know I want to bring flip flops, so when my shoes do inevitably get soaked, I don't have to walk around the parking lot and back through my apartment complex in bare feet. So there I am, sneaking around the house trying to be quiet while Gerard sleeps. My bagel is in the toaster, socks are on, flip flops on (I know, I know.. I don't want to hear it. That's not the point of the story), water is ready, I have my keys, phone, camera, all ready.  My running shoes are by the door, as well as Kota's poopy bags, and our towels. I've chosen to wear my sandals there out of comfort, and laugh to myself how it would be so funny if I left my running shoes here. It reminds me of one time when we were kids, my dad, sister and I were going to a 5k road race, and Amy didn't realize she didn't have her running shoes until we were already there. Classic. But I digress...

We are getting situated in my car before I realize I did bad. My bagel is still in the toaster, and both the water and poopy bags are still by the door. Whoops. I leave Kota in the car as I run back to get these necessities, and then we start our drive. While we live a mere couple of  blocks from the ocean- it's all weird and not beachy, so the part of the beach I like to run at is a solid 20 minute drive. We are pulling into the parking lot when I realize the floor of my passenger seat is looking quite bare. I think we all know where this is going. I don't have my running shoes. Awesome.

My first thought is to turn around and drive all the way back to go get them. My second thought is to wake up Gerard and bitch and moan until he agrees to come bring them to me. My third thought is that maybe this is the perfect time to experience running on the beach barefoot. I opt for number 3.

Being a snob, I always trying to make sure I fall within the limits of "real" runners. I take this very seriously. Real runners avoid things like wearing a race Tshirt on race day. That's just embarrassing. In fact, real runners wear race T-shirts very rarely, as they are mainly cotton. I used to think real runners didn't wear Ipods, but I corrected this school of thought as I trained for my first marathon by myself. Although I do still harbor a little bit of embarrassment by

 running with my Ipod, and try to avoid it when I can. I've noticed during my longstanding tradition of running on the beach that some runners choose to run barefoot, while others continue to wear normal socks and shoes. I haven't been able to decide who the real runners are. But now I'm on the barefoot side.

As you noticed from my packing checklist above, I've brought my camera. I have aspirations to merge this into a running blog of sorts, with pictures and tales of the adventures I come across on my runs. Several things need to first happen before this dream can become a reality.

1. I need to be able to run further distances to come across these adventures. This requires both endurance recovery, and a whole lotta hill work.

2. I need to abandon my safe-zone of the treadmill on zero incline.

3. I need more of my spectacular Lululemon running shorts with a back pocket big enough to hold a camera. Support the cause here.

Anyway, I go out to the sand and start to run. It's at this time I realize I forgot my watch. Awesome. Oh well. Going gadget-free also makes me feel like a real runner.

So, running barefoot isn't that bad. Sure, you have to be more careful about not stepping on the washed-up jellyfish, but you also don't get your shoes all wet and sandy. It's much easier to make yourself run on the hills later in the week when your shoes are clean and dry.  I think I'll continue to run barefoot until someone tells me it's not cool.

Being barefoot also allowed me greater flexibility in forcing poor Kota in the water. Upon seeing me survive the water without burns or melting, she was coaxed in a little easier.

I officially live in California

While I thought this title had been given to me when I got my new driver's license, I feel actually initiated after this morning. Kota and I went for a run along the beach, because I figured that's what Californians do.  Being a pale-skinned girl who can't swim, I never got into the whole beachy thing, but I'm a changed girl now. I attribute most of my change of heart due to the character of the beaches out here being much different than, say, Miami beach, overrun with drunk teenagers who are so tanned you can't even tell what race they are. Here you can drive up and park right on the waterfront, and have a nice relaxing time to yourself with only a sprinkling of other visitors, who are either also running, or surfing bravely in the chilly Pacific Ocean.

So Kota and I had a wonderful run, and saw some interesting wildlife washed ashore. Kota has a marvelous innate ability to determine whether or not the oncoming wave will hit the shore far enough to get her feet wet. I began to trust her skill in this much better than mine, as I didn't want soggy shoes any more than she wanted wet paws. She might as well have thought the ocean was pure acid coming after her, the way she would jump hysterically when she did calculate the water was indeed going to reach her path. But it saved me many darts I thought we should make to get out of the way, when Kota wisely knew we would be safely dry. 

It turned out to be an unexpected fartlek workout, when we would have to intermittently sprint out of the way from time to time. After half an hour, my quick step abilities faded, and my left foot was defeated to the cold wet ocean. I figured if I was going to have to make it back home with a soggy foot, Kota might as well commiserate and have her first Pacific Ocean experience too. So I dragged her in. Not all the way, but enough to get her paws wet, which was hard enough as it was. 

I've enjoyed living here since we first moved, but today was the day I really fell in love with the city. I think Kota and I found our new Saturday morning tradition.