I don’t want to admit it

But I think I have to. Running during this pregnancy is not going to be an option. Not on these wobbly paths and pavements.

I’ve been out four or five times now, and the last couple of times, I’ve had ligament pain at the tops of my thighs, where they join the pelvis. And not just while running – afterwards, for most of the day. Which makes me waddle, and wobble, and is generally annoying. I suspect this is partly to do with how my hips are put together – like my father’s legs, everything naturally turns inwards, and I am pigeon-toed at the best of times. Add in the extra progesterone during pregnancy, a tendency to round ligament pain when I sneeze – and we can all see where this is going. I don’t want to exacerbate things to the point where I end up with belts and crutches and all sorts.

I think this is my body saying ‘No. No. Not for you right now’. Which is annoying, and disappointing, but I must, and shall listen.

Well. After I’ve consulted my chiropractor on Thursday (but I think the answer’s going to be the same).

Hmmm. Swimming or stationary bike then. Probably the stationary bike (urk. Joining a gym. Fortunately, there’s one 15 minutes or so walk away – which makes a nice warm up and cool down).  I do not like being cold and wet, and I don’t think my swimming costume will cover my boobs anymore. And who wants to buy a swimsuit in January?



This time, a 12:09 min/mile

And I took N with me.

Honestly. It is like starting running from scratch all over again. Parkrun seems like an immense challenge right now, and once which I am not yet ready for. Give it time.

Also, I really need a better running bra. Going from a 32B to a 34C has been something of a shock. I now need some serious support…. any ideas?


Thing1 has a nose!

And my ovaries are no longer like satsumas.

I feel a heck of a lot more relaxed about going to yoga and going for a little run on Friday… the risk of ovarian torsion is greatly reduced!

Happiness all round really. A NOSE!!!!

Which has made everyone round my SFiL’s bed a little happier for a little while. He isn’t doing so well today: pain, aches, didn’t keep lunch down (could be a side effect of the morphine). We are still a bit worried. But: he is being looked after, they are doing their best to keep him comfortable. We have everything crossed.


Endorphin Level?

About Berlin marathon level. 1 mile. 13 min/mile, of which about 25% was brisk walking. Muddy. Crammed into a bra at least 2 sizes too small, with my paunch peering over the top of my running tights (they stretch, yes, but they fit better when I’m about half a stone lighter…).

I jogged slowly (10 min/mile). I walked when I felt like it. And on the hill. I managed to miss the rain showers. And now I’m eating salad and feeling very happy indeed.


7am on Sunday

It’s been an interesting few days. We have a car, so are no longer reliant on one of a series of unreliable vans, which have punctuated the last six years with a biennial collapse of some type, necessitating their replacement. I am hopeful that Wayne the Prius will last more than 6 years and thus cost more or less what’s been spent on said unreliable vans. And hopefully cost less in repairs, tax and fuel. Insurance is a bit different because I am the named driver for the first time in about 15 years (not since Uni) and I have no no-claims. Despite last causing an accident in the previous century (incident misjudging a gatepost. No one involved). Mum’s car can be returned next weekend.

N is going out for a run. 16 miles. His plan is to go to Woking and get the train home, to make a change from out and back along the canal. He is going to stink by the time he’s back. B.H. Calcutta (passed) here is hoping to be out finding a couple of cheap photo frames and a fleecey blanket by that point….

For my SFiL (78) has acquired sepsis. Family drama abounds. SiL (30 ish weeks pregnant) came back from Dubai. The hospital is on black alert (Aussie Flu). I am forbidden to visit in case of catching the flu as it risks miscarriage. SiL decided to visit (we wouldn’t let her in the hospital without a mask, in order to reduce risk to her). MiL is still married to SFiL. SFiL’s partner (StepMother out Law) is incapable of looking after him kindly or properly: at best bossy, at worst incapable. The atmosphere round the bed is tense with MiL and SMoL present; MiL is next of kin…. SFiL needs a bit more rest but hates being alone, and is still somewhat confused at times. But the antibiotics appear to be doing what they should so we are hopeful for a recovery with time. N has to don mask, gloves, apron to visit, and has been very reassuring about having an extra shower after visits. He doesn’t want flu with London 99 days away and Tokyo 6 weeks away. And, if I can’t visit (whole family now knows why, so I hope Thing1 is gestating away. If my appetite is anything to go by, the answer to that is yes. I also appear to have eyebrows racing to meet in the middle and am going to have to give up foundation and powder at the current rate of soft down growing on my face. My nasal hair. Wow mama!). Anyhow. If I can’t visit, I can try and make the room a little less stark within the rules of what the hospital can allow. Which reminds me. Must whatsapp BiL to see if my niece and nephew can do some drawings which he can photograph and we can print.

Between N’s alarm and one extremely tuneful and LOUD bird (the rest of the chorus is simply enthusiastic and gorgeous, but this one was stridently tuneful and determined to rival an orchestra in full flow), I am awake. Got to sleep late, got my 5ish hours. But now awake. I intend to lounge and doze. And then make eggy bread, which features heavily in my dreams. It’s a shame John Barrowman didn’t have quite such a starring role. He was more of a support act. Dreams, my friends, are weird.

With luck I will be awake for lunch with my SMiL…. N’s parents divorced when he was tiny. My FiL married A, and they were together until he died and had D. My MiL married R, who had two children of his own, and they had my SiL together. They then split up. MiL gave up on men, as far as I can tell but R took up, or, I think, was taken up by my SMoL. A cast of thousands, or so it seems. Meanwhile, there’s just me and my parents on my side. It took me months to disentangle N’s family! N’s SFiL did most of his day-to-day Dadding as, being the 1970s, N’s Mum got majority custody and his Dad got every other weekend. They still go to watch Spurs together: N, his step brother and SFiL all have season tickets.

Last weekend, my SFiL simply had a nasty cold. And by Thursday? Sepsis. He really is lucky to be alive right now. I am just waiting for the third family member to have a rare, potentially serious medical complication from something relatively straightforward. Probably in February, given the currenr cadence. And I advise that you check that your elderly relatives have had their pneumonia vaccination. And their flu vaccination. Once again, I’m very glad I caught my DVT quickly. And also rather glad that SFiL collapsed on the floor rather than making it to bed when he started feeling dreadful: had he been tucked up, the likelihood is that he would have slipped away quietly. We have been terribly lucky, all things considered.


I used to run

I am going to run again. I have emailed my super running coach from Monday night running club speed sessions to ask for a really gentle plan to get me back to parkrun. She’s just had a baby herself, and ran throughout her pregnancy to week 31, so she gets it. Both the coaches I had last year have had babies in the past 12 months. And both ran. Kinda reassuring!

I nearly went out this morning before work. Had I been starting at 9am, I think I would have. Just for a pootle round the block (about 1/3 mile). Slowly. Not worrying about speed. If I could find appropriate underpinnings…

I miss running. My GP is more worried about my running from an asthma perspective right now (we changed my medication as the really effective stuff is, of course, contra indicated). She is of the opinion there is little, physical, I can do which will damage Thing1. My hyperstimulated ovaries? Well. A gentle trot is unlikely to result in a torsion. And I seem to be stuck with them for the duration.

I am also trying to distract myself from the 12 week scan next week. I can’t help but worry that Thing1 isn’t thriving. On the other hand, the ravenous hunger in the past 24 hours suggests a growth spurt…