Our doctor asked us to take a few months off after the miscarriage and D and C to let my body and our hearts recover. As part of the recovery, Lee, Melissa, and I decided to run the Myrtle Beach half-marathon. The race was at the end of our "wait" period and a few weeks after the one year anniversary of Julia's passing. It was the perfect goal for all of us. We registered and trained and were ready. With a few weeks of training left, our wait time was up and we realized that, if God agreed with the timing, I would be 6 weeks pregnant when the start gun went off. The doctor promised us that would be fine and happy training!
Since I always know just a few days in that I'm pregnant, I had a few weeks of pregnant running before the race. I was conscious to keep my pace slow, drink lots of water and take fuel, and made sure I stayed close to town to be close to bathrooms (thanks to my in-laws for being my potty stop). The week of the race, my pace was comfortably around the 9:30 mark, right where I needed it to be to make my goal time at race day.
The day before we were scheduled to leave, we got hit by a huge snow storm that dumped well over a foot of snow in a day. We had to change our reservations and drive in the snow to get to Myrtle. After lots of traffic, we got to the expo at 7:30, got our bibs, met Melissa's guide runner, got some pizza and tried to get to bed. It was late, we were afraid of oversleeping, and we had the usual pre-race jitters, so sleep was little and far between.
We woke up 30 minutes before our alarm and decided to get up. As per my usual pregnancy, not enough sleep equals nausea. Bad, intense nausea. I tried to eat and could barely choke down my breakfast. We got ready, opened the door and saw a monsoon. (There are no rain checks in running) We drove to the race, met up with Carl (the guide runner. And our new favorite person), let Melissa use her first ever porta-potty, and waited to start. I assured Lee that he didn't have to stay with me and that I had my phone and would be fine.
We took off and my watch was set to stick to my 4:1 run walk program and I was quickly reminded of the blogs and articles I've been reading about pregnant running in the first trimester: the hardest part is breathing. From the start, I couldn't run for more than 2 minutes at a time. I had to pee at mile 2, but there were no bathrooms set up until mile 5 (where I had to wait in line for 10 minutes to use). My nausea won 10x during the race. I was miserable. I would NOT quit.
I saw a time clock around mile 9 and realized that Lee should be done and I was not going to be anywhere near my projected finish time. I pulled out my phone to text Lee knowing he would be really worried if he didn't see me when I told him he should. He encouraged me to keep going. My back was throbbing. Around mile 12, I couldn't choke back the tears anymore. (I had already choked back too much vomit. Gross. I know. No one said running was a pretty sport) However, not being able to breathe + crying + running for over 2 1/2 hours = hyperventilation. I had to stop and calm down to get what breath I had, back. Lee contined to check on me and it made me feel more secure. I crossed the finish line 40 minutes past my projected finish.
I saw a time clock around mile 9 and realized that Lee should be done and I was not going to be anywhere near my projected finish time. I pulled out my phone to text Lee knowing he would be really worried if he didn't see me when I told him he should. He encouraged me to keep going. My back was throbbing. Around mile 12, I couldn't choke back the tears anymore. (I had already choked back too much vomit. Gross. I know. No one said running was a pretty sport) However, not being able to breathe + crying + running for over 2 1/2 hours = hyperventilation. I had to stop and calm down to get what breath I had, back. Lee contined to check on me and it made me feel more secure. I crossed the finish line 40 minutes past my projected finish.
I was so relieved to be done and in so much pain, I immediately sat down and sobbed. And hyperventilated again. Photographers kept trying to take my picture, and I kept saying, through my sobs "No thank you." (Manners are always important) I finally got to Lee and felt so relieved. He got me food, water, and chocolate milk and sat me down and went to get Melissa after she crossed. When she got to me, she was all smiles. I was so proud of her.
Then she noticed I had blue lips. (The rain quit around mile 2, then we had 20 mph winds. Lee compared it to the scenes on The Biggest Loser where they run on the treadmill with a resistance band around their waist)
We got to the car and got back to the hotel to get warm and clean.
We got to the car and got back to the hotel to get warm and clean.
After resting and refueling, we were back to having fun. Dinner, doughnuts, and hanging out then back to the snowy WV early the next morning.
It was a decent race. Not enough potties (that may have been a pregnant problem) and almost no spectators. Placements were based on gun time rather than chip time, and fuel wasn't easily accessible. But the course was easy to follow and flat. I don't think I'll run a half marathon while pregnant again.
This conversation happened with some girlfriends:
The morning after the race, we watched a beautiful sunrise over the ocean was such a promise from The Lord that new beginnings are new every morning.
Morning by morning, new mercies I see.
I've never been so excited to be nauseous and for a medal to be around my neck and a race be over.
