You have GOT to be Kidding Me

Or, "Why Speedwork isn't Always Your Friend."

Ladies who have been pregnant (and male counterparts of ladies who have been pregnant, and friends of ladies who have been pregnant, and people who have read about pregnancy) know that making it through 40 weeks of pregnancy without stretch marks is something to brag about. But not something to brag about **too** loudly, lest you become one of "those women."

I am was one of those women. My body is far from perfect, but I've been spared the stretch marks. According to "The Experts," I can thank my ancestors for good skin elasticity genes.

So I've been doing these speedwork exercises as part of the "Run Less, Run Faster" program that I'm following (I'm sure that will be its own post later on), and, as "speedwork" would imply, there's a lot of short distance sprinting at a pace much faster that I'm used to. Sprinting uses and builds muscles differently from running longer distances at a slower pace, so I've suddenly got some nice upper leg muscles going on. Based on this random leg muscle diagram, it appears to be my Tensor Fasciae Latae and my Rectus Femoris that are benefiting most (or maybe not, I'm not an anatomy and physiology expert. whatever happened to quads and hamstrings?).



Great, huh? Well, yes, until I spotted a small web of stretch marks a few inches below my hipbone, right on the spot where that "Tensor Fasciae Latae" supposedly is.

WTF? Exercising is supposed to make you look better, not give you stretchmarks!

Pregnancy Aftermath - Kegel-What?!

This is a good one. And by good I mean embarrassing. And by embarrassing I mean something that you'll probably laugh at me for. But it's still an important lesson for all moms-to-be out there.




P90X includes an exercise video called Plyometrics, which means "jump training." Jump training? Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Here's a screenshot I found online.

Interestingly enough, this is the P90X kids doing the exact exercise that led to my seriously un-glamorous moment.

All of the already-moms know that there is a certain muscle group that gets weakened during pregnancy and in childbirth (um, snissing anyone?). My pre- and post-natal yoga videos were insistent on working that muscle group, constantly mentioning how important it is in the real world. I must have done that "elevator move" a million times. Consider yourself lucky if you don't know what I'm talking about. I thought I had strengthened them enough, especially considering that I'm now almost 20 months past that delightful modesty-stripping experience called labor and delivery.

Anyway, I'll spare you the full-out intricate details. Just imagine having those muscles being not-quite-as-strong-as-they-apparently-should-be, drinking lots of water all day, and then jumping around wildly like they're doing in that picture up there. Apparently they haven’t gained back as much strength as I thought….

Thank goodness we're doing the program in the comfort of our own basement. That would have been quite the walk of shame.

Weighty Matters

I've posted various snippets of my thoughts and feelings about weight gain over the last 20 something weeks, but I've never dedicated an entire post to the subject. Anyway, today on the Nest there has been a lot of discussion about weight gain, who's gaining how much, whether people are gaining too much or not enough or who now weighs more than their husband, and on and on and on. I find it so sad that our society places such an emphasis on thinness and equates being rail thin with being beautiful. Women get a raw deal in the size/weight/eating area, if you ask me, throughout pregnancy and life in general. There was a fascinating article on MSNBC last week about how when women eat together it almost becomes a competition to see who can eat the least amount of food. It starts with one, saying that she's only going to have a salad, and then the others follow suit, even if they were really craving french fries or something equally frowned upon by the diet police.

Even though I think we need to give ourselves a break, especially during pregnancy, I'm just as guilty as the next woman when I get that sinking feeling while watching the numbers on the scale flicker. I'm currently about 3 pounds away from a number that I never would be glad to see, and there's a good chance I'll be hitting another milestone before the next 14 weeks come to an end. Just because you're expecting it to happen doesn't make it any easier when it does. Does this make me a hypocrite because I have a pint of ice cream a week but still fear my weight going over a certain number? Maybe, but I'd like to think not because I'm still well within my normal weight gain range and I'm careful to eat fruits, veggies, and other healthy things throughout the day so I don't have to feel guilty about the 1/4 cup of ice cream I enjoy. It's just sad that we've been socialized to fear the numbers on the scale.