Multitalented.

Back in the days of Ironman training, I was one of those folks who had a mental block about peeing on the bike. Have never been able to do it.

Let's just say...controlling my bladder should no longer be an issue. Mostly because I have relinquished all control of it. It's quite humbling, actually. Being pregnant with this little lady sitting on my jumping on bladder like it's a trampoline has left me running to the bathroom with more frequency than an FM radio throughout the day.

Not only do I always feel like I need to pee, but I can pee freely and at will. And, of course, accidentally.

Clearly it can only mean one thing.

I'm multitalented.

Kind of like walking and chewing gum...or patting my head and rubbing my belly at the same time.

I laugh. I pee. Hormones take over and I cry over a Home Depot commercial. There's a strong possibility I'll pee. And when I'm hugging zee toilet because I'm one of the lucky 6% that gets to be sick THE WHOLE NINE MONTHS [I'm just that special]...there is a high probability that I'll pee mid-hurl.

Let's just say that wasn't exactly my finest moment. I totally glamorous!
[At least I can laugh about it now, so that has to count for something, right?]



Perhaps I should just packing a few extra pairs of pants during the day?

No doubt that moving forward, I'll be able to save valuable time in long course triathlon by peeing on the bike. Let's just hope it doesn't require the accompaniment of hysterics, laughter or vomiting to make an appearance.

See? Pregnancy isn't so different than Ironman training, afterall!

And by my calculations, if Ironman and Pregnancy are so similar...at 34 weeks and 3 days, I'm nearing the end of my final build. Although those tapering nerves have already started to rear its ugly head.

Making Room for Baby

When you are the master of your domain, and your domain just so happens to be a whopping 960 sq ft [including a dog-cage style storage space in your basement and postage stamp-sized balcony], fitting two grown adults and a dog can be a bit of a challenge. Add a baby into the mix and it gets to be downright humorous.

Making room for baby has been quite a challenge for us. We're getting creative with where we store her things...and our things...and the dog's things. This mostly involves us purging our worldly possessions...

...and by purging I mean us hiding the last decade of our belongings in nooks, crevices and hidden spaces at my mother-in-law's house...let's just hope she doesn't go upstairs anytime soon or she may fall over with a heart attack at the amount of crap things we can't bear to throw away that we've stored there unbeknownst to her...

But let's just keep that our little secret. Mmmk?

The plan is to move. Eventually.

Actually...the plan was to move from our condo a good 3-4 years ago. But the market tanked and you all know how that song and dance plays out.

So here we stay a little while longer. At least until Baby Jay is mobile and taking over our tiny living quarters. Until then, all of her stuff is taking over our tiny living quarters. How could someone so small have SO MUCH STUFF?! And she's not even here.

Sigh.

...and this is only the beginning. The very beginning. There are more pieces to assemble and clothes to wash and fold and toys to organize and things to buy [like car seats and carriers and safety nick knacks and baby mattresses and monitors] and not to mention all the classes we still have to take. And seriously...why are these classes all so stupidly expensive!?

And one day, perhaps we'll have our adult bedroom back. [Oh? Did I not tell you the kiddo is shacking up with us in our bedroom since again, we live in the smallest one bedroom condo in all of Chicagoland?! Because she is. We'll see just how long this arrangement lasts...I give it all of 2 weeks before a sleep-deprived momma runs off and checks herself into a mental institution hotel for a bit of shut eye.] But until then, her things are slowly taking over.

Like this shelf here. When empty, it seems rather unassuming and a rather nice fit with our home decor. But add diapering necessities, a ceramic bunny, a jar of oversized flowery headbands, and baskets upon baskets of blankets and sleepers and bibs and first aid thingies like nail clippers, thermometers, and bizarrely disgusting snot suckers, and our bedroom suddenly morphs into babyland central. And the crib isn't even in there yet!

But anyway...the aforementioned shelf...

"B" It's not just for baby.

And where exactly we plan on putting her wardrobe? I'm not quite sure. But since my life is apparently relegated to high-waisted, tapered mom jeans and yoga pants for a while, no doubt I'll be cleaning out my closet for her adorable attire. Afterall, she's already more fashionable than me [thanks in large part to Katrina].

The best part about having a girl? All the ridiculously awesome clothes that come with it. Here's a small sample of some of the clothes my sister's friend sent us. And yes....Girls do indeed Rule!

The dresser that was put together with the tiniest of allen wrenches and a truckload of willpower! And 3.5 hours later, we finally had a complete dresser. Here's to hoping the crib doesn't take as long...

 And now for the BEST! THING! EVER! [After a cute little baby girl, of course...]

And quite possibly my most favorite baby item yet! If only there was a baby for me to take running...soon enough!!

But we are down to a mere 47 days. And 47 days is not nearly enough to get all of our poop in a group.

...and no joke, the other half just said "Not to scare you, but did you know we have about a month and a half left?!"

33 Weeks...where did the time go?

Oh good sweet grilled cheezus, what have we gotten ourselves into? And how can we make our tiny little abode miraculously turn into 1200+ sq ft overnight?

Turning a New Year...

Well. The year is just about over {save for a few sweet hours left} and it doesn't make sense to reflect on what was. {Or in my case...what wasn't...}

It wasn't the year of the run. Or the tri. Or the Ironman.

As you know...

It was the year of making-and baking-a baby. Lots of blessings in unexpected places.

Good times, really.
Especially the trying part of baby-making...that was exceptionally fun.
{Except for now my dad totally knows that I have sex. Not sure how I feel about that...unless you think he'd go for the whole immaculate conception thing?}

But yes. Good times all around.
{With the exception of her not having nearly enough room in there right now.}

And in two {TWO!!!!!! WTF?!} short little months, this whole pregnancy ordeal will be over and this dark haired, dark eyed, little person we've created will enter this world and start raising some hell. No doubt, she'll be a hell-raiser. Any child of ours will be ready to make a statement from day one.

I've already been doing a bit of nesting...lots of purging 'round these parts to make way for the little one. The crib and changing tables are in, they just need to be put together. And we've been slowly but surely stocking up on basics like onesies and blankets. Even a few other fun, ridiculous little things like swim suits {for a St. Thomas trip in June} and over-sized flower headbands.

Apparently I'm girlier than I ever gave myself credit for, because there is quite an abundance of pink in my possession now. Pictures to come, naturally.

And I've even been trying my hand at becoming more domestic.

Trust me. I wouldn't normally try to make my own goldfish crackers from scratch. {And yes, they were beyond delicious.}

Perhaps motherhood is slowly making me more like Betty Crocker? Who knows.

But I've been giving some good thought on what I'm hoping to achieve in 2012. And while clearly the first and foremost goal is to become a kick ass mom and save the world before bedtime, I'm not *quite* ready to divulge my running goals for the year.

Yes. Running goals.

Not tri.

But a valiant {and triumphant} return to the run.

And it's arguably a bit more aggressive than I was once considering.

Okay.
More aggressive...
than I ever...
...freakin'...
...imagined.

But I've been assured by the other half and the sassiest piece of southern ass I know, that with their help it'll be attainable and I'll surprise the pants off of myself.

It looks like I'll have some attention mano-a-mano from a pretty spectacular coach, so I'm pretty excited.

Now...it's just a matter of figuring out just when exactly I'll get cleared to start moving and shaking after baby girl's arrival.

Cheers to a most excellent 2012 and achieving all of your athletic and personal goals!

You know, assuming the Mayan's aren't right about that little calendar issue and muck everything up for us all.

Ironman. It takes 9 months to train for.

Weird. It's been over a year since I've posted on here. I didn't think it had been that long. But a year, nonetheless. I tend to think of things in Ironman time. When I did IMAZ in 2009, I trained nearly every day for 9 months. Mike trained for IMoo for nearly 9 months year only to compete with a freshly broken arm and not have the day he had anticipated. And all those hours of him racing in pain felt like a 9 month wait to get him to the finish line.

Nine months is a long time to wait.

And rightfully so, I suppose...considering there hasn't been much of any running going on lately. Just a long 9-10 months of trying to get knocked up. Trying, being the key word.

Note to all those aspiring to have little marathon runners and little triathletes out there...sometimes it takes time. A lot more time than you ever could anticipate...you spend so many years of your life trying to not get pregnant and you really just don't grasp how ridiculously challenging and precise the timing actually is. It's like running 400's on the track and each time falling short of your time goal. Round and round...running in circles...finding disappointment at the end.

But then. One day in June...it just clicks. You nail the timing and things fall perfectly into place. {why didn't someone tell us which hole to use to begin with!? tmi? yah...thought so, too...just kidding, by the way}

And then June turns into July. And with summer comes fall. And flat tummies turn into ripe, round bellies and hideous stretch marks. And races run turn into cheering valiantly on the sidelines {part with happiness and part with jealousy for wanting to be out there pounding pavement with stinging lungs}. And nausea turns into tossing cookies for nearly 29 and a half weeks. And that brings you to where you are today.

...well at least me. Not necessarily you. But if it is you, too...then yay!

In about two and a half months, we will welcome Baby Jayhawk into the world. And if we've done our job right, she'll cheer for Kansas, be brilliantly smart, stunningly beautiful, run stupidly far distances, ride around on a kiddie Cervelo {yes! they make them!}, adore the gentle rocking of open water, and learn to "chick" the boys at an early age.

Or not.

She could be a ballerina {heaven help me!} or an underwater basketweaver or even captain of the boys varsity hockey team.

As long as she finds something to make her happy.

Though if it just happens to be triathlons that make her squeal with joy I will be beyond over the moon!!!

Admittedly, I'm missing the physical outlets that make me sane. I'm not saying I'm miserable. I'm just...I don't know. Missing something without being able to go out and lay down 10 miles on any given day. Some women are fortunate enough to run throughout their pregnancy. I was fortunate enough to have a baby healthy enough to make me physically on any day of the week that ended in -y.

Thanks for that one, kiddo.

In time, I'll get back there. It won't be pretty. And it'll likely be painfully slow. But with the support of great friends and some awesome coaches, my legs will return to underneath me and I'll pound the pavement once again. Build up confidence on neverending miles the bike. And find comfort in Lake Michigan.

Two and a half more months. That's all we have left until our lives are forever turned upside down and inside out and we have to find new ways to balance it all. Which means I have a little less than six months before I can bust out that jogging stroller to take my best girl out for a run along the lake. And I can start working toward a larger goal once more.

Oh, how I am truly looking forward to that day...
...and lasting all of a mile before I'm winded and over it.
But I've been waiting a long time for it. And want it so badly.

Nine months.
Nine months of prayers that they'll actually let us take our child out of the hospital in spite of my affinity for disasters and klutziness.
Nine months of emotional highs and lows and a husband who is way too tolerant for my involuntary craziness {most of the time}.

Nine months.
Not of Ironman training.
But nine months of training to be a mom.

The Nike Women's Marathon....really!? NO. No...REALLY!?

I stumbled across a recent post from John Bingham about the events which took place at the end of the Nike Women's Marathon in SF this past weekend. As someone who has been in the back of the pack, I find the actions of the race staff truly infuriating, insulting and disheartening. As a result, I would not recommend this race to women in the future. A marathon finisher of any pace deserves to be celebrated and receive their medal, especially when they're completing the race within the pre-determined and announced time frame.

The below post has since been removed but has been taken from the cached site through Google.

How Not To Run A Race

Congratulations to everyone who completed the 2010 Nike Women’s Marathon and Half Marathon this weekend. It was, in many ways, a very difficult day and anyone who crossed the finish line deserves a lot of credit.

I want to give a special shout out to the nearly 4,000 Team In Training participants who, collectively, raised over 13 million dollars this weekend. The event has raised over 105 million dollars for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and has become a real anchor event. It truly is special.

Which is why what happened at the end of the race is so upsetting. I don’t want to go off on a rant, but I can’t keep silent. What I witnessed on Sunday was the single most cruel, heartless, and outrageous displays of – well, I don’t even know what to call it – inappropriate behavior by a race organizer that I have ever seen.

With 20 minutes to go before the published close of the event, a time that the announcer was counting down, some cowboy hatted jerk decided that the race was over. He turned off the sound, stopped the clock, at literally TORE the banners off the finish line structure. He looked ridiculous climbing around tearing off the banners and it would have been funny if it wasn’t so sad. Worse, those who finished after the premature closure were denied the finisher’s necklace.

I have been a participant, and staff member, a race producer, and an event owner and I can assure you that there was NO legitimate reason for what he did. The excuse given was that the road had to be opened, but there were tents, etc. that needed to be broken down as well as the finish line – which – was on wheels and could have been moved.

Shame on anyone and EVERYONE who allowed that to happen. Shame on Nike. Shame on the finish line operations crew. And same on the cowboy-hatted clown for being such a jerk.

Waddle on,

John

What are your thoughts on the matter?

You'd think they would be working extra hard on their positive media presence considering they've still got egg on their face from 2008 when the fastest running time (by 11 minutes!) wasn't declared the winner of the race. SHAME ON THEM!

***tap tap tap*** Is this thing on?

Hi there.

Remember me?

No?

Yeah well...I figured as much.

I wouldn't consider this a comeback to this ole blog by any means. But it's more of a Hi there...hello...how you doin' (in true Joey Tribbiani fashion) type of post. I feel the need to check in every once in a while or something.

You know...as if to say...I'm still kickin' it!

(Do the cool kids still say "kickin' it"?? ...no? Well then.)

Not too much has been going on in my world since the bright and glorious meltdown on the side of the road in Racine where I simply proclaimed "I DON'T WANNA!!" as if I were four years old.

And I have to admit. It's been quite nice.

I've raced exactly two races since then...and I wouldn't exactly call either of them a "race." First, the RnR half marathon. I suffered through survived it. Help my girl from Team Salute get out through the other side in one piece (she's amazing, by the way). Then there was the Chicago Triathlon...where I found myself doing the swim leg of a sprint relay with the ChicagoNow bloggers media team. It was mad fun. And I'm pretty sure that our trio of three awesome ladies won the whole entire race.

Okay. Not really...but we celebrated as if we did. I mean...how often do you get to race on the same team as 2009 Miss Illinois?

And who can forget my friend Emily owning Lake Michigan with the Big Shoulders 5k swim. Seriously. She owned it. And she knows how to punch cancer in the face. As if she needed more cred for her Captain Badass title. And badass, she is!

Then there was Ironman Wisconsin two Sundays ago. No...we didn't race, but it turns out we knew a whole crap load of people who were. So we did what any good triathlete would do. We volunteered. In T2. Quite arguably one of the most rewarding and most disgusting places you can volunteer during an Ironman. Good times.

You can read all about the day over here. Infinity Multisport had an incredible showing. Mad props go to my girl Elizabeth and homeboy Loehrke for bringing home the hardware.

While we were cheering on our friends late into the night, we stumbled across Whitey from Kansas City...and then were soon reunited with fellow blog reader K, from KC...who promptly requested that I start blogging again.

So K...this blog's for you.

And before you ask, no...I did not register for Ironman Wisconsin the following day. Although someone else may have...so I'd anticipate a possible revival of someone's blog in the next handful of months. I'm excited to be the support crew this time around as we've got an insanely awesome group of friends all racing together.

This past weekend I had my first brush with Cyclocross. UHMM..WHY THE HELL DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TELL ME ABOUT THIS SPORT?!!?! Seriously. It's like mountain bike racing on crack with a dash of steeplechase ending with a kiss of carnage. Who wouldn't want to redline for 30 minutes straight and avoid crashes why cycling through a gauntlet of obstacles?! I need to find a way into that mayhem. No doubt I'd have my ass handed to me, and I quite possibly wouldn't be able to stop laughing so I could actually bike in a straight line...but I am madly impressed with this tomfoolery. Mark my words...one day I'm going to give this a go!

Clearly I haven't been doing much racing of my own...I've been at so many events on the sidelines, cowbell in hand, cheering my little head off. Super specathlete, if you will. Expect the marathon to be no different.

Oh yeah...did I mention I have a bib number for that? Somehow I was selected as one of 15 folks for Team VW during the marathon. I guess I should start training...shouldn't I? Hmm. No doubt it's gonna hurt.

I'm not going to lie. Most of my time has been sucked into my ChicagoNow blog. I mean...it's profitable. Why shouldn't I spend time over there? But you're right...that doesn't mean I should neglect my "home" over here in jayhawk-land. Afterall, isn't this where it all started once upon a time?

We've got some big plans coming up in the next year...so stay tuned. You know...for the whole 2 people out there who still read this...

...until next time. And I promise it won't be a few months until I check back in.

Limbo.

So I'm still wavering about the whole "to race or not to race in Racine" bit.

We spectated at the Bigfoot Triathlon over the weekend and it was bittersweet. I had that internal twinge where I really, really, really wanted to be racing and was jealous of all my friends and training mates who were out killing the course. But on the flip side, I was relieved that I wasn't out there, too. It was a very weird sensation.

But I think I have a plan that will allow me to take a bit of downtime and still be primed to race a 70.3 this season. I'm working on getting my ducks in a row, getting the hubby and coach aligned with it (note to self, talk to The Punisher) and doing a bit of soul searching to REALLY determine if it's the right move for me this season or if I should just pack up shop and spend the rest of my summer laying in the sun with a margarita and book in hand. The prospect of this new racing option makes me happy, assuming I garner the right support.

The past 2 weeks have been a bit laid back on the training front and I can't lie...it's felt good. Really good. It's nice to not be ravenously hungry all the time and feel exhausted at my desk in the afternoon. Yesterday I swam a mile in a chop that felt like I was swimming uphill through moleasses. At least it made for a quick return trip to short. Tonight will bring a quick run along the lakefront since the temps are topping out in the low 70's. I figure some more solo training days will really help me sort out all the demons in my head with this season.

I still have a half marathon in a month, so I'm working on shifting my focus to that temporarily and trust that all the pieces will fall together as they should.