Running While Pregnant Is One of God’s More Elusive Jokes
All hail pregnant runners.
It took less than 30 seconds for the two lines to appear on the stick. Staring at the pregnancy test, I laughed to myself. I knew my three-year-old girl would be over the moon with the news of a sibling. For the past year, she had been doodling family pictures consisting of us and a random baby symbolizing the sibling she desperately wanted. I was beginning to wonder if she would start asking me if I was ovulating.
After a minute in the bathroom contemplating if there was a way I could give birth without actually enduring pregnancy, I walked out to the kitchen, set the pregnancy test on the counter, and said to my husband, “Well, our daughter got her wish. I am going to go for a run now.”
Like many runners, I use running as a way to process my thoughts and emotions. I ran for quite some time that day.
Don’t get me wrong; I wanted this baby. My husband and I had several talks over the past year about having a second child. Some days I was sure; other days, I wasn’t. Our first kid was astonishingly easy. What if this one turned out to be a demon child? However, even with all the concerns of producing a second Stalin, I knew I wanted another one.
But, god damn pregnancy. I hate it. And I am one of the fortunate ones. I get a little sick for about a month, and then it’s smooth sailing. Until, of course, the contractions start, and I want to punch every sperm-producing male in the throat.
My primary issue with pregnancy: it takes away my ability to run the way I want.
To go all out during intervals, gasping for breath, until I dry heave. I love it. I hate it. I love it. Maybe you can run until your body gives out when you are pregnant. I have never heard that presented as a possibility. So far, I have yet to find an obstetrician who says, “Absolutely! Run until you almost collapse! DO IT!”
Making a child from almost nothing requires a LOT of energy from your body. The body you once had running PR’s leaves you to produce a baby. It no longer has time for that nonsense.
About two months into my pregnancy with my second child, I ran on the treadmill at the gym. Already much slower than my usual pace, I found I couldn’t run longer than half a mile before panting for breath. Feeling like a smoker, a determined smoker, I tried again. I stopped after a short stint, knowing for my unborn child’s sake, I couldn’t keep pushing myself.
Deflated and frustrated, I felt the sting of tears. Tears. In public. Oh, the pregnant humanity! But, try as I might, I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my flushed face.
Running is all I have that is mine. Running is the place I can go to alone. No one needs me; no one asks for me. It’s just me. And here it was being taken away.
As a pregnant woman (or let’s be real, as a woman), self-pity quickly turns into vicious guilt. The voice of self-righteousness mixed with utter fear play over and over in our heads.
Who are you to cry over not being able to run? Don’t you know how many women would kill to be in your shoes? Are you crying over an easy, healthy pregnancy? Pregnant without even trying? How dare you. What if you ran and something terrible happened? What would you do then?
It’s so much fun to be in a pregnant woman’s head.
There is a silver-lining with running while pregnant. Eventually, you become a different runner.
(Editor’s note: Consult your own doctor before running while pregnant.)
Maybe not the runner you intended or the runner you want to be. But you realize you can make do with what you have. You learn how strong of a woman you are. Our human-making bodies are pretty amazing.
There are also numerous benefits of running while pregnant. It can lower the risk of gestational diabetes and preeclampsia, improve mood swings, help with pregnancy weight gain, and ease back pain.
I ran during the entire time I was pregnant with my little boy. It was no longer my time; it was our time together. Could I run at a 7-minute mile pace? Ha! No. But, I loved it. When I would stop to walk, I could feel him kicking and moving as he had just awoken. The buzz of the run would put him to sleep.
As a bonus, I gained only 13 pounds during my second pregnancy and pushed him out in 11 minutes. I don’t believe it would have been as easy if I wasn’t a runner.
Six days after my little man was born, we did a 5k together (to be clear, I had to walk it cause a human body just wrecked my lady parts.) Just him and I. Slow as hell. And I loved every step of it.
Pregnancy isn’t forever, thank all the Lords. The competitive dry heaves will be there waiting for you on the other side.
