Today I celebrated my 3rd child’s 3rd birthday.
Whenever my children celebrate a birthday, I reflect upon the time they were in the womb and the labor and delivery, etc. Naturally, running is a part of those memories. I’ve had 4 pregnancies, and at least run through part of each of them. My first pregnancy ended in an early miscarriage, but I was lucky enough to share the Nashville Country Music Half-Marathon with the little peace of life inside of me before she left. Two heartbeats appeared on the ultrasound of my second pregnancy and I was lucky to enjoy running until I was 22 weeks with the twins. After that point, I walked, swam, kickboxed and plowed through the elyptical until I was taken off of all activity at 28 weeks. When Clare came along, I believed that with only one baby inside of me, I would be able to run right into the delivery room, but alas, it was not meant to be. I’m one of those women whose bellies grow out, out, out and the weight/placement of Clare put too much pressure on everything and so I took a leave from running at 30 weeks. Again I kept up with the cross-training and was scaring people at the gym as I kickboxed at 41 weeks pregnant the night before my induction. My fourth pregnancy was filled with a lot of sickness and so my running slowed considerably. 3 bouts of Bronchitis, 1 case of walking Pneumonia, and fatigue from taking care of 3 little ones while being so sick, left little to no energy for the only thing I really wanted to do.
And now? Now I’m getting back on track. The littles are growing and my body is healing and my running is improving slowly, but surely. It’s the ongoing journey of life that Chambawamba so musically hits on the nail, “I get knocked down, but I get up again and you’re never gonna keep me down”.
So hats off to all of my fellow runners out there who are persevering through the tough times and overcoming obstacles in order to get your running fix. And happy, happy birthday to my little birthday princess, Clare.