Trying to Come Back

When I first found out I was pregnant with this newest addition to our clan I still felt fine. I vowed that I would keep running, I wouldn't slow down with my workout routines and I would do a 5k every few months to keep me motivated.

I might be walking those 5k's now. 

Once I'm "with child" as H loves to call it, I become incredibly sick.  Unless I'm asleep, I'm sick.  I throw up a lot and I spontaneously gag whenever, wherever.  It's really sexy.  The idea that I would be "Super Prego!" with this third pregnancy suddenly became laughable.  I get so sick that water gives me heartburn.  I'm on medication just so I can act like a somewhat competent parent, take care of the kids, make their food and keep some of my own food down. Bagels are my balm.  I could eat an entire block of cream cheese and bag of bagels in one day.  I'm eating one right now.

Today I made it to the gym.  I took my little white pill, packed my bag and made sure I turned left towards the gym as I exited TD's school parking lot.  It was pouring down rain and I wanted nothing more than to lay waste to my DVR queue but I didn't. I ran for 25 minutes and while I'm slower than I used to be it felt incredibly good.  The sun was peering from out between the clouds as I left the gym and today I feel just a tiny bit optimistic that in a few weeks I will feel like myself again.  Myself with an alien taking up residence inside my body, but myself all the same.