Philly Hexathlon 2009

I wanted to try and do one triathlon while pregnant, and so I did. While I wasn't going for time or speed, I did want to at least go out and do a pretty good job. I think I saw one or two other women who appeared to be in about the same state as I was. Darren even made me an iron-on shirt that had my theme of Hexathlon (triathlon for two) on it. Because of the extra weight gain, I bumped myself into the Athena class (that's 150lbs plus, no age groups) to try and make myself slow down (I hate losing to people in my own class). It was a gorgeous day, clear with a water temp of 74 and air temp just under 80. Darren and T came to watch, along with Anne Marie's dad. By the way, her dad said he would make fun of her if she lost to a pregnant chick. Commence with the taunting (I beat her by about a minute)!

Swim: 0.9K, 16:06
Two seconds faster than this race last year! Started out pretty well, swallowed a half-gallon of Schuylkill about 200 yards in and had to stop for a few seconds. I recovered fine and finished the swim in a respectful time. You will not see pics of this because I am too chubby.

T1: 3:18
Took my sweet time, got some water, threw on a shirt, and started the bike.

Bike: 57:41, 15.5 mph
Again, although it hurts my ever-competitive soul, I took my time and tried to just keep a nice effort up. I skipped wearing my bike gloves in order to save time, and instead my carpal tunnel got so compressed in my left hand that I couldn't shift about 15 miles in. My thumb and index finger were completely numb.

T2: 2:25
More water, more gatorade, slipped the running shoes on.

Run: 32:40, 10:30 min/mile
Because of the lecture I got at my 16 week OB appointment, I was wearing my heart rate monitor for the run and bike. During the bike, I kept my heart rate around 170 and tried really hard to keep it under that. However, during the run, I went off the charts. I kept having to stop and walk because I was getting up in the upper 180's, even though I didn't feel all that tired. Ugh. But I know I have better things to worry about.

Total: 1:52:12, six minutes faster than last year (with a broken leg)! I came in 5th in the Athena division, which is fine with me.


Although I didn't break any PRs or win my division, I'm completely happy that I was able to finish in a respectable time (and 20 weeks pregnant). I'm hoping to sign up for the Olympic distance next year, but we'll see what happens after the baby is born. No more tri's this year!

Baby Updates

Everything is going great so far with the baby. I followed in my mom and sister's footsteps and had zero morning sickness or other first trimester problems. I did have some shortness of breath, but that resolved several weeks ago. At the present, my friend Anne Marie and I are training sorta hard for the Philly Triathlon this weekend. I say sorta hard because obviously I can't go bonkers and train 3 hours all out in the heat in my condition. We usually ride for about an hour or so and then maybe do a quick half-hour run. Which brings me to my first story of the blog.
At my last OB visit, my weight was up 10lbs from my visit 5 weeks earlier. Oops. Besides the fact that I ate a gigantic lunch that day and was eating starburst and coke in the exam room, I had also just gotten back from my sister's wedding. Presto Fatso! No problem, I told the nurse practitioner, I'm training for a triathlon and the weight will hold steady there. You would have thought I had told her I was taking up competitive smoking and drinking. I explained to her that I was taking it more easily than usual, but she didn't seem reassured. She then told me I shouldn't get my heart rate above 140 while pregnant. I didn't ask where the random number came from, I just told her I would try.
Being a good patient, I went out and bought a heart rate monitor. Now, I have used a lot of cardio equipment that records heart rate, and I am a friggin' hummingbird when exercising. While biking and running, I can get into the 170's with just minor effort (this is in addition to my non-pregnant resting heart rate of 55-60). So I took my little heart rate monitor out for a quick run. As soon as I got going, BAM!, 163 bpm. Okay, I'll jog slower. Only down to 158. Huh. So I started walking. Within 10 seconds of walking, I was down in the low 120's. I bounced around for about 20 minutes of walking and running with the same results: no form of exercise that I do keeps me in the 140s (maybe swimming). Which made me think, if I can do moderate exercise with a pulse in the 150-160s and still be able to carry on a conversation, I can't possibly be shunting blood from the uterus (otherwise, the lungs would be compromised too). So, screw the arbitrary 140 limit, I'm doing what I know I can handle without too much effort. Besides, everything I've ever read on pregnancy and exercise mentions that it's good for the baby as long as you don't overdo it and try to run a marathon or something.
In other news, my big ultrasound is scheduled for next Tuesday (6/30). That's when we find out baby's sex and, more importantly, if everything is going ok (I had no genetic testing or triple screens performed). Just scheduling the ultrasound reminded me how much HMOs suck and I won't go into details here (shocking as that is).
Currently: 19 weeks, 3 days (6/21/09) and with no more nights spent in the hospital for call!

Good Dog

I love dogs. My favorite books and movies as a kid were about dogs and their undying devotion to their owners (Where the Red Fern Grows was my favorite book for years). So when Darren and I got married 7 years ago, our first gift to ourselves was a rescue dog named Max. We had gone to the Humane Society in Louisville in search of a great big dog to bring home, but after looking around, we were struck by this cute little beige dog that would just watch people go by, with none of the anxious yipping and barking of the others. He just watched and wagged his curled tail. During his, uh, audition for us, he immediately went outside to the lawn and rolled over. He did this for about a full minute before he decided it was time to pay attention to us. We took him home and kept the name of Max.


Max had been given up by his previous owners at the age of five due to his massive anxiety issues. He was the most awesome chill dog when people were around, but would go absolutely bonkers when he was scared and people weren't around. We went through several kennels, couches, and rooms of carpet over the past seven years. He also went to the doggy shrink and was placed on sedatives, but we hated the side effects and gave those up.

About six months ago, I noticed that Max was having trouble getting up the stairs. He kept getting weaker and weaker until he could barely stand for any length of time. He had also gotten extremely thin, dropping from his adult weight of 42 lbs to 28 yesterday. As with humans, their are very few options available for the treatment of spine disorders. So with heavy hearts, we said goodbye to Max, two days shy of our 7th wedding anniversary. I'll miss our walks, his openness to wear any stupid thing I would put him in, and his big brown eyes and curly tail. Goodbye buddy.


Also see Darren's blog.

I get so emotional, baby

I am normally a very emotional person. Usually, this means when I have a gripe, I let you know. However, I also cry extremely easily at sentimental situations. This has been amplified by the massive amounts of cry-ogenone (not a real hormone) circulating though my system with the baby. The most recent episode occurred today while watching the movie Up. Please remember that I am a huge fan of Pixar movies, and I have an attachment to pretty much all of them. If you have not yet seen Up, please see it now or as soon as the warden allows.
Now Up tells the story of Carl Fredrickson and his adventure with a young neighbor, Russell, and a house attached to a thousand helium balloons. But, the movie starts with the story of Carl as a young boy and how he met his wife. The next ten minutes is almost a perfect silent film of how two people in love will spend their lives and adventures together, although they may not be as exotic as the ones in their dreams. I cried for the whole sequence. I'm crying while typing this. Most of the theater was at least sniffling.

I also started crying a few days ago when I was listening to a review of the movie on NPR. The reviewer also discussed other poignant scenes in Disney movies, and I instantly thought of the scene in Dumbo where the young elephant is separated from his mother (if you forgot, she was placed in the elephant looney bin for protecting Dumbo from hecklers). The song "Baby Mine" is playing during the sequence, and it is about as heart-wrenching a scene as exists in film. The other scene I thought of was the second-to-last scene of Pinnochio, just after he has saved Gepetto and his friends from Monstro the whale. Jiminy Cricket is calling for Pinnochio, and stops short when he finds him washed up, presumably dead, on the beach. He had sacrificied himself to save the others. There I go, crying again.
It's a shame that the Disney company in general seems to have abandoned good story-telling just so little sister Pixar can continue to pound them (Bolt was really good though).
As for me, I will continue to get emotional any time I think about my life with my husband and our new baby. I can't help it; how many people get to live a life this perfect?

About a baby...

Least shocking statement of the year: We're having a baby (really, once it's on facebook, it's over).
It took almost an act of God (aka: vacation) to free up enough time to write this blog. It's been really hard the past several months to keep my blabbering mouth shut about this whole baby thing. Every blog I've typed over that time period has had to have a "I'm pr, pr, pr, pr" deleted from it as I had to control blurting it out. As you may or may not know, Darren and I are extremely A-type people. Everything must be absolutely perfect at all times, period (with the exception of our house; it's a disaster). So when we found out, we had to wait until the 12 week appointment before we would tell ANYONE*. I'm still getting used to whole concept that there is a little lemon-sized infant inside me, depending on me for its every need.
So, as I begin this next chapter in my life, this blog will now be devoted mostly to the new baby (quite a bit less about triathlons, although I'm still going to try one this summer).

How it all started:
A few days before I figured out what was going on, I noticed that I could not catch my breath. I would be walking down the halls or climbing stairs and get winded very quickly. Normally, I am like a 6 year-old, walking as fast as I can and sprinting up stairs. This was very odd for me. I also was running one day and was completely wiped out after 2 miles. 2! A few days after that, my stomach felt like I had been sucker-punched the day before and not remembered. It was like 80-minute abs! So I quickly figured something was up. Darren and I had not been trying very long, so when I finally did take a test, it was a complete surprise. Yay!!!!
Since those first uncomfortable weeks, my stomach pain has relapsed and I have some breath control back. I still can't run for more than about 30 minutes, but it's a huge improvement. I also totally avoided any morning sickness, which is great, but I over-compensated the whole eating more thing. When I go to the pool now, I look like the chubby chick instead of the pregnant chick. My belly is still pretty small but the rest of me grew plenty. I need a shirt or billboard or something that explains my condition "Pregnant, not fat!".

At this point, I am 14 weeks, 4 days. Can't wait for the 20 week ultrasound. Will it be grandson #2/6 or granddaughter #1 on both sides?


*The exception to this is the residents that I am rotating with. Orthopaedics requires a ton of exposure to radiation and toxic airborne chemicals, so I had to let them know why I was skipping certain cases.

RIP Robley Rex

As a med student rotating through the CCU (cardiac intensive care unit) at the VA hospital in, oh say, 2002, I remember always seeing this little old guy pushing his walker through the halls. He was always friendly, always smiling, and always trying to cheer up the very sick vets in the unit. I also remember that he had this handmade pin he wore that was shaped like a hand making the "hang loose" sign.
This man's name was Robley Rex, and as I came to find out, he was Kentucky's only surviving World War I (that's a one there, folks) veteran. He was 101 years old and cheering up WWII and Vietnam era vets up to half his own age. Mr. Rex died this week, just 4 days shy of his 108th birthday. He was a true inspiration to living your life with purpose and grace. He will be missed.

Just checking in

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I've been working my tail off the past several weeks and I have the bags under my eyes to prove it. Here's what I've accomplished lately:
1. I've operated on over 200 people so far this year, which averages out to around 15 surgeries or so a week. I am rapidly approaching complete and total residency burnout, and I am currently counting down the number of in-house calls I have left (9). After those, I never have to sleep in a hospital again.
2. Max is really sick. I'm pretty sure he has either a tumor on his spinal cord or bad lumbar stenosis, but either way my poor puppy is struggling badly with stairs and walking. He doesn't seem to be in any pain, and he will still play some, but he doesn't have his old doggy happiness.
3. Trying to get into the pool more. I always dread the lead-up to getting in the water, but once I'm in, I'm happy as a clam for the next hour of so. I still like beating people younger than me (Yay!)
4. Sad about Harry Kalas.
5. Happy as heck for Isaac and Sarah! Also all of my other friends who are expecting (Jackie, Leah, Melissa, Mary, Catherine, Autumn, April).
6. Welcome my new nephew Zak to the world! (son of Eric and Sylvia, 4/16/09, 7lb9oz)