I Was Warned
A week ago, I attempted my first postnatal run after reading Kara Goucher's blog entry about her first postnatal run, a week after having her son Colt. (I would make a snarky comment about the name, but my kid's middle name is Savage. I guess we all have to give our boys options in case they decide to be rock stars) She described the run as one of the best ever, writing, "I have never loved running more, and I have never loved so deeply before."
I gotta say that the experience for me, it was not so much. I only went about a mile and a quarter and the mantra playing in my head for the first half was, "Sweet Mary, Mother of God." By the second half, I'd toned it down to, "OMG, OMG, OMG..." I had severely underestimated the degree of frontal support necessary these days, so I ran nearly the entire distance with a hand cupped securely over each enormous boob. I ended up running a 14:21/mile pace and could have probably walked it faster and more comfortably.
Today, I gave it another shot and the phrases that popped into my head this time were, "Hoo, boy" and "Whoa, momma." You might not be able to tell from that, but it seemed like real progress and it showed in my time: 11:53/mile pace this time! At this rate, I'll be under six minute pace by the middle of November.
The biggest difference this time was just having the lifting assistance of two sports bras, though a small industrial hydraulic system would probably help even more.
So the onboard feeding system is currently the biggest obstacle to my running comfortably right now. While that is temporary, it won't be going away anytime soon. My still swollen mid-section is also something I'm conscious of, but I'm hopeful that a little patience and persistence will help me whittle that away, along with my not-insubstantial thighs and butt. In terms of poundage, I've already lost about 12 of those since Nathan emerged, so I'm about halfway to where I'd optimistically like to be by the end of the year.
As for my photography, I've been able to sneak in a few portrait sessions with the critter here and there, but it's harder than I expected to find time for that. Generally, he's either sleeping (and I don't want to risk messing with that) or screaming bloody murder to be fed. The rest of the time he seems to be emitting one fluid or another from his various orifices, though that did result in one classic portrait that will have to be put on display on the occasion of his first date:
