I know I shared a few days ago that I was still (GASP!) training for a half marathon at the end of September.  It has been a roller coaster of an experience so far – and I didn’t expect anything that has happened so far.  You’d think with three full marathons under my belt, two of which happened last year, this would be easy peasy.

RIIIIIGHT.

It WAS easy peasy.

Now it’s like trying to go out and knock out 20 miles during every run.

I currently have someone else stealing all of my energy, 24 hours a day, eight days a week (I’m trying to make a point, here).  I knew it was all over one morning when I was trying in vain to keep up with Tim during a three mile run. I was DYING…gasping for air, begging him to slow down, whimpering because my boobs hurt with every bounce – BOUNCE! This is a new thing for me! I have bouncy boobs!

When we finally finished that run, I was all, “huuuuuuuugghhfffppp.”

There was nothing else to say, really.  I had no additional energy or puffs of air to be able to get anything else out.

huuuuuuuugghhfffppp

I went – in the span of maybe a week or two – from running our three mile runs in sub-30 minutes to running the same run, same route, in about 33 to 35 minutes, depending on the day.  And that 33 to 35 minute effort?  HARDER than running the sub-30 minutes.  It takes everything I have just to keep going.  It is frustrating because I’m slow and I’m slowing Tim down…and our half marathon time?

Haha…what time?

I don’t even need to try for a decent time.  I just need to try to finish.  That’s the modified goal, here: Just. Finish.

I am on the hunt for a shirt that says on the back: “I’m not slow. I’m pregnant.”  So, if anyone happens across this kind of awesomeness, let me know!  I plan on wearing said shirt during the half marathon, since Tim and I will probably be bringing up the rear of the pack and will most definitely be passed by the full marathon leaders (the half marathon starts at the same time as the full and is on the same route, only 13.1 miles into the race course, if that makes sense).

If I can’t find that exact shirt, then I’ll have to make one.  That way, people will see me and instead of being all, “Uh…you’re supposed to be running?…” they’ll be like, “Whooohooo! Rock on with your pregnant self!”

I’d prefer the second response.

Now, as for my broken va-jay-jay (I didn’t forget).  This requires a slight lesson in OUCHIE.

Along with all of the other glorious side effects of growing an entire person inside of you, there is this thing called round ligament pain.  Sounds kind of harmless, right?  I mean, it’s not called round ligament rip or tear or dismantling. Anyway, basically what happens is your ligaments that are attached to your uterus (TMI my male readers) are getting thinner and longer by stretching in and out like if you were pulling on a rubber band.

Typically, this pain is usually felt when you make a sudden movement, like getting up from your BFF the couch, and it feels like a knife just stabbed clear through your lower abdomen or your groin.

OR

You can exercise more than you’re supposed to and end up with this round ligament pain in a whole new way.  It’s more like this aching, OMG I can’t walk or move my legs or any part of my lower body in any direction because if I do?

My entire va-jay-jay is going to drop off and roll onto the floor.

That was me on Saturday.  After run/walking 11 miles.

I just knew if I moved an inch I would lose my female bits.  Convinced of it.  This, in and of itself, was traumatizing enough, and poor Tim was having serious issues with his left knee and ankle.  All I could do, even after I was nice enough to get him ice for his ailments (while holding onto and willing my va-jay-jay to stay on my body with one hand), was lie on the floor and moan.

Then, I wobbled upstairs to take a shower and hot damn! The warm water was a miracle!  I felt better!  Hallelujah!

Until everything cooled off.

Later that afternoon while Tim and I were in the car, on the way to somewhere…probably to eat something…we were sitting and a stop light and I decided this was a prime opportunity to just lay it all out there.  So, I leaned my head onto his shoulder and was all, “That run was hard!  It wore me out!  I’m exhausted and I’m in pain…”

During my whining and complaining, Tim is rubbing my head doing the, “Mmhmm…yup…I know…it sure was hard…”  You know, those words your husband says when he’s trying to appease you but isn’t really listening?

…and my va-jay-jay is BROKEN!

Tim snaps his head at attention, looks at me, completely forgetting we’re in a car and he’s supposed to be the responsible driver, doubles over and starts laughing hysterically all, “Wow. Broken, you say? “

Yes. Broken.

***FOOTNOTE*** I’m happy to report that my va-jay-jay is no longer broken and I’m pretty sure the only way I fixed it had nothing to do with duct tape. Just plain old laziness.