When I initially found out I was pregnant with Rose, like most women on their first pregnancies I went in to a bit of a panic at the thought of how much weight I might put on.
It didn’t help that I had just spent over a year dieting and training for my first marathon, and was at the slimmest I’d been in years.
The first few weeks of my pregnancy I made a concerted effort to eat sensibly, I did reintroduced foods which I had cut back on to help lose weight which I knew the baby would need though, but I consciously tried not to fall into the trap of eating for two.
But it didn’t last long, the further I went into my pregnancy the more I ate both in terms of quantity but also in calorie content, I ate cake like everyday from about 6 months on. An eleven day trip to New York to visit my partners great grandparents added to my weight gain, with 3 lovingly prepared meals everyday and lots of new American foods I’d normally stay away from. Like half a blueberry pie I ate in the early hours of the morning whilst still suffering from jet lag.
And what about exercise? Well, I gave up running cos I was simply too scared to run to be honest, I did do some swimming and a little bit of yoga but not enough.
The end result?
I tipped the scale at over 21 stone by the time I was due. You would not believe how large I was. I could barely get off the sofa.
But I had a plan.
A few days before Rose made her appearance I made a note on my phone giving a month by month breakdown of how much I would lose after I gave birth and how I planned to do this, and running was a key part of my plan.
But ever the optimist I think I underestimated just how difficult this would be.
Don’t get me wrong I am happy with my weightloss so far, more than 5 stone in fact but what I have come to realise is
A. Just how much pressure I put on myself
B. Just how deluded I can be
I attempted my first 5k just 7 weeks after giving birth, signed up to a 10k about a month later which I ran in May and then signed up to not one but two half marathons this Autumn.
In 2 weeks time I will be on the starting line with thousands of other runners geared up to tackle 13.1 miles around Greenwich as part of a race called Run to the Beat.
Am I ready? Am I heck.
I went on a club run last night with my running club, the East London Runners. The route was just over 7 miles. I had lost the bulk of the other runners by mile 1, by mile 2 I was considering running back the way I had just come, mile 3 I had an incident with a wasps nest, I stopped around mile 4 for a bottle of water (something I rarely do on training runs), we skipped the 2nd park of the “two park run” course and made our way back to the clubs base having completed 7 miles and arriving in darkness with nobody else to be seen in the carpark.
When I say we, I am basically talking about myself and Don the clubs very patient backrunner. Thanks once again Don.
I found out last night that I am nowhere near ready for next Sundays half. But will I be pulling out…nope. I will just turn up as planned and see what happens on the day, I might find it ok afterall, I might get a sudden burst of energy and wizz round. What’s the worst that could happen hey? Or maybe I shouldn’t even ask that.
I question whether my constant drive to commit to things even when I’m not ready for them is advisable. What do you think? Is there something seriously wrong with me?
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