The Connection Runners + [training]

We'll Take Camping, Running Shoes, and a Table For Three, Please

I've spent more minutes sitting in doctors' offices than I have sitting on the toilet lately. That's a good thing for more than just the obvious reason - it means that LBA is almost here!

We had a final follow-up ultrasound this morning to recheck for any signs of birth defects since my first trimester bloodwork returned a few numbers that were a pinch high. Everything looked fine, and we got a few more snapshots of the bean that Kevin took to work to prove he's really going to be a dad show off.

However, as we round the corner into the final countdown...


(sorry, couldn't resist throwing that video in there)

... I have to take a hot minute today to remind myself and pretty much all people of the world that just because I'm having a baby doesn't mean that my life has to change 100%.

Ever since we found out that a mini-us was on the way, everyone and their mom wants to weigh in on what our life will look like when we become a family of three.

Wanting to continue running and entering races seems to appall the most people.

"My God," they say/gasp/exclaim. "Just how do you think you'll be able to fit all of those miles in once you have a baby? You'll probably never run a race again."

But just wanting to squeeze in a nap or spend a night on the town garners similar reactions.

"You better enjoy these times while you can because once she's here, the farthest you'll make it is out to your couch."

Meanwhile, I nod and smile, agreeing politely, but usually feel more like this:

(source)

Before those with children (you know, those more experienced folks) take to the comments to call me a moron for believing I'll be able to live a life worthy of a single-girl-in-the-big-city sitcom, let me say this: I know life will change. I get it. I might be naive, but I get it. Someone else's life will come before mine starting sometime in January.

What I do believe, at least right now while I have a case of Deluded Pregnancy Brain, is that we'll be able to continue doing most of the activities we enjoyed pre-LBA. Sure, coordinating and planning those activities will take more time and effort than before, but I don't see why we'd have to completely give up or completely change aspects of our social and physical lives.

Jenna, a good friend of mine, gave me some great advice long ago, perhaps even before I was pregnant. She said that life doesn't have to revolve around a child; rather, a child's life can be adapted to revolve around the parents'.

So, rather than say "no thanks" to a summertime weekend camping trip, we'll haul along a kid-sized sleeping bag and upgrade our 3-season, 2-man tent to a more family-friendly model.

Instead of bowing out of a race, we'll stagger our training so that one of us is home with the little one while the other logs miles. Or, on a short run day, we can load up LBA in the jogging stroller to include her in our fitness schedule.

And dinners out? I will be that woman hauling in the Graco SnugRide 35 and snugly setting it into the booth next to me.

And on those rare occasions when we can't include the baby or simply want it to be just the two of us, we'll enlist the help of babysitter (hey, Mom/Nana... ) and hope all goes well.

How do you handle the naysayers who tell you that something simply cannot be done?