Warning: In case you didn’t notice from the headline above, this post may be TMI for some. You have been warned.
At about 7 km into Sunday’s race, my brain took a trip down memory lane, to a time when I was seven years old, walking home from school, wearing one of my favourite corduroy dresses. I was just a few blocks from home, less than 10 minutes. I had to pee, like really had to pee, my bladder was so full it was sore. I tried squeezing it in, tried walking with my legs crossed over, but the feeling wouldn’t go away, and my super skinny, short, little legs wouldn’t move fast enough. I knew there was no way I could make it. I looked to my left. I looked to my right. There was no one. I squatted, I peed, Ahhh, relief.
I wish I could say I had the same relief on Sunday…
I’ve hemmed and hawed for awhile about writing on this topic, but after Sunday’s race, I felt it was high time to once again show the real side of what pregnancy can do to your body. If you were following my blog throughout my pregnancy last year, you already know that I didn’t exactly enjoy the experience, there was no happy glow hovering overhead, but rather a long list of side effects; a list waiting to be laminated of reasons why never to get pregnant again! Today’s post is a huge point on that list.
At 7 km into Sunday’s race I was slapped with a burning sensation of mortification. Ohmygawd! I just peed my pants! Ohmygawd! Is it running down my leg! Ohmygawd! I’m peeing my pants again! Ohmygawd! STOP!!!
I went to the washroom twice prior to the race, and nowhere in that run did I feel I had to pee, it just happened. And it’s not the first time. I’ve sneezed and felt a trickle. I’ve laughed and felt a dribble. And yes, for quite a few runs, there have been drips – but all of which I was able to stop at a drop or two. But Sunday, there was no stopping it!
To all you women out there, hear me now when I say this is 100 per cent the result of carrying an 8 pound 10 ounce baby in my belly – there is NO doubt about that. Things that were once properly positioned, that fit perfectly to my body, no longer seem to be. And just as I had to realign my hips post pregnancy, it seems I need to, ahem, reconfigure other areas as well.
Sure I’ve been doing Kegal exercises, maybe not as diligent as I run and do my strength training, but, you know, when I remember I’m all over them. And I thought things were getting better, I really did, in fact, it was just this past Saturday when I told Coach NZ that I thought I’d finally curbed that nasty assed problem, and I truly believed it. It had been some runs ago since I last had a, ahem, dribbling incident. But then Sunday, with my feet burning up from the pounding, my calves throbbing from the exertion, and my breathing laboured, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, BOOM! There she flowed!
And point 46 on the Reasons Never To Get Pregnant Again list struck again!
Both Little Ring and I were none to pleased by the incident… good thing I packed a blanket for the ride home!
- 5 a.m. BG before: 4.6
- Temp. basal: none
- Carbs: 2 shot blox (16g) no bolus
- Distance: 5.17 km – 10 steady/15 tempo/5 cool down
- Time: 30 minutes
- Average pace: 5:46 min/km
- 6 a.m. BG after: 8.9
You win some and you lose some, and with this run I was majorly in the losing category. My legs had nothing in them. I was supposed to be pulling a 5:00-5:15 pace for my tempo, but couldn’t seem to get below 5:30. Boo.