I am still running, even though I’m not running nearly as fast as I used to, nor as often. But I’m trying to keep my running legs as fresh as they can, but isn’t easy. This new baby weight that’s amassed, as well as the belly that pokes out of my Nike running shirt, makes me feel like I’m running with paint cans strapped to me.
The air seems so thick in my lungs, while the sun feels almost prickly against my skin.
This morning’s run began quite temperate and cool, with the sun tucked neatly behind the much-welcomed clouds we’re currently experiencing. Despite the new (finally) lower temps, I still felt like I was laboring out there, like I was re-learning to run again, as though it was all new to me, a little wobbly and uncoordinated. I do my best to keep my legs fresh while racking up miles on the elliptical often, almost daily, with this summer being too brutal to experiment on the Texas roads. But I still feel almost broken.
I know this is all an adjustment, being pregnant, living in the Texas heat, adjusting what I once new as normal and making it a new normal. I know I will have to forego speed for a (long) while, and just take it as it comes for now, being grateful to continue to run at all. But time is short, and in a few months it’ll be too tough to even run at all.
I really treasure these quiet times, between my breath and my feet striking the roads, taking in nature’s sounds and the thoughts in my head, body moving with a purpose, endorphins coursing through my veins, feeling so alive.
I am a runner –
a pregnant runner –
who wants to keep running, but is struggling to find her way (even before pregnancy was an issue).
Here’s to hoping I can find it, soon.
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