Was this baby planned? Yes.  I’m actually offended shocked at how many people came out and asked this question when we told them we were expecting.  I may not be the most maternal toward other people’s babies, and may not have proclaimed to the world when we decided to start trying, but this baby has been a part of our plans and hopes for a long time.

When is baby due? June 17th.
Why that’s great: June 17th is Father’s Day!  Mike thinks this is pretty special – and I do too.  We know there is a pretty minimal likelihood that the wee one will actually be born on its due date, but it’s a really neat coincidence for us as first-time parents.
Also, an early-summer baby will give us an opportunity to spend time together as a family.  Mike will be on his summer vacation and in theory, we’ll get to figure out the whole parenting thing together until he goes back to school and I go back to work in the fall.  Yes, I will be going back to work.  That’s reality for us as a family.

Oh, there is one reason why a due date of June 17 may not be representative of superb life-planning: that race I have been running every year since age 12? Saturday, June 16th.  While there are scenarios that would allow for my 17th Steamboat to happen – I am resigned to play it by ear.  In the grand scheme of things, a healthy baby is the top priority.  I have no intention of being like the crazy Chicago Marathon lady and putting everyone at risk…not to mention Peoria is outside of my insurance network.

How are things going?  Very well so far.  From what I gather, I’ve been pretty lucky with the whole morning sickness thing.  I learned very early on that while it seems counter-productive, the first thing to do when nausea hits is to get something to eat.  It most commonly hits me around 10AM – and at 20 weeks, I still make a mid-morning run for the break room at work nearly every day.  But I know that some women have it much worse, so I try not to complain.  (Unless there’s a line at the vending kiosk.)

While I have gone into every doctor’s appointment with a combination of anxiety and disbelief, all signs point to a healthy baby and a normal pregnancy.  We are so thankful to have been blessed with an easy pregnancy so far…although I still think I’m in a bit of a state of disbelief about the whole thing.

Is baby active?  From what we’ve seen via ultrasound, absolutely.  However, I haven’t been able to feel much yet.  Apparently the position of the placenta is cushioning the baby’s jabs to the front of my abdomen – which explains why almost all of the movement I’ve felt so far has been out to either side.

The result?  While my belly is starting to grow, for the most part I feel completely “normal.”  I know this will change, and I will soon be faced with distracted work and disrupted sleep.  Part of me knows to enjoy this peaceful time now, although I do look forward to those reassurances that baby is moving and growing.

This is probably enough for now.  Unless you want to see some pictures…what?  That’s all that people really read this kind of thing for?  OK, fine.

Here’s the little one:

And the one who’s getting bigger by the day:

19 weeks, 5 days

1a. My undergrad diploma still sits unframed in the envelope it was mailed in.  I think it’s the level of sacrifice required to go to school while working full-time that has made me pretty proud of this one.

2.  The reason I always quit blogging when I quit training is that I designed this to be a very running-centric space.  While I really enjoy blogs with that level of specialization, I just can’t maintain that kind of focus on something that is not always my primary priority.  So I’m freeing myself up to talk about career things, and family things, and whatever else I feel like.  Not talking about running in every post doesn’t mean I’m not a runner (which was always the intended point of the blog title)…I just need to make some changes in order to get there.

2a.  For some reason I am completely overwhelmed by this endeavor and don’t know where to begin.

 3.  I have a big doctor’s appointment tomorrow.  As in, “the” big appointment.

3a.  We don’t yet know if we’re going to find out the baby’s sex.  Someone doesn’t want to know.
3b.  That someone isn’t me.

4.  I finally joined Pinterest.

4a.  I almost feel bad for the facebook friends who have “followed” me, because I’m not at all crafty or creative.

5.  I am tired.

….

I think that’s enough for now.  Stay tuned for some baby stuff, if you’re into that kind of thing.  To be honest, I still haven’t decided how much I’m into that kind of thing.  (The gratuitous sharing of baby info, not the baby itself…if that needed to be clarified.)

1.  Read first, then write.

In an effort to rejoin society, I thought a good start would be to tackle my Google Reader and catch up on what’s been going on in the world while I’ve been away.  And I tried, I really did.  But when you read and read and read and that little ticker still reads “1000+”, it’s a little overwhelming.  There comes a point where you just have to “mark all as read” and move on.  A fresh start, so to speak.  I can’t promise my queue won’t reach 1,000 unread posts again, but I’ll do my best to keep up (and by keep up, I mean check in more often than once every several months).

2.  140 Characters at a Time

I got my toes wet by firing up the ‘ole twitter account.  I gave it a little face-lift – new username and all.  Started things off with the occasional retweet…then added little snippets of my own commentary.  Next thing you know, I’m criticizing major magazine articles and posting tweets that drive away my already-limited follower base.  I admit it - it feels kinda good to have a voice, whether people like it or not.  Does this mean I’m ready?  I think so!

3.  Word Vomit

Now that I’ve gotten good and comfortable with the blogosphere, I might as well just pretend like I never left, right?  Before I do, I feel a bulleted list may be in order.  Just to get a few formalities out of the way.  So without further ado, here’s what’s been happening around here since my hiatus began:

• In September, I undertook a big project at work, which commanded what little free time I wasn’t spending on schoolwork.  Real-world application is kind of the point of the evening MBA program, right?
• In December, I finished my MBA.  Whew!  It was the toughest, most time-consuming semester of the entire program, but the most rewarding by far.
• The last week of classes coincided with the last week of my first trimester of pregnancy.  Umm, what?  Yeah.  Talk about a stressful fall!

Needless to say, Mike and I are thrilled with what the next year holds for us.  There might even be a thing or two to write about.  And keeping with the theme of the blog, I might just make a few attempts at walk-jog-shuffling as the days get longer this spring.

It’s good to be back.

I don’t want to talk about the “training” part. 

About a month before the race, we all decided to switch to the half for a variety of reasons.  I decided before we got on the plane that I wasn’t going to wear a watch, or worry about time…I just went out for a run. 

I feared that things might go terribly wrong.  I hadn’t exactly excelled in long runs through the long, cold winter.  When I got to the 10-mile mark and didn’t want to crawl off the course, I was pleasantly surprised.  At that point, it was just three more miles in the lovely Arizona sunshine. 

Since Rock N Roll Arizona is huuuuge and I had no timepiece, several hours passed before I knew the official time.  Once I was able to look it up, my suspicion was confirmed:

9:00 pace is my auto-pilot.

My lightning fast time of 1:58:33 was just fast enough to not be my slowest ever, and to be honest I was thrilled just to finish under 2 hours.  It meant that I was able to gather up my stuff, meet Lacy in the reunion area, and see Kara Goucher and her cute baby before heading back out on the course to find Bridgette, who walked the half while dealing with an obnoxious knee injury.

But here’s the thing.  The race itself ended up as a footnote on our trip.  One of the major factors influencing our decision to switch to the half was a brilliant plan to leave Phoenix immediately after the race, pile into a rented compact car, and drive for four hours.

Friends, it was so worth it.

It meant we got to visit here

and see this

at sunrise.

Yes, please.

That is what running vacations are all about!

That ends today.

I just gave my $15 to the KC Track Club, a group I ran with exactly once in 2006 and have been too scared to go back.  (Their Wednesday Night Runs are hosted at people’s houses, and that’s just intimidating for a stranger.)  I keep forgetting to check the schedule for nights they meet at local watering holes instead of homes, because let’s be honest – that’s a bit more my style.

What will come of this membership?  Honestly, I’m not too sure.  They have a really great “Run Local” campaign that plans smaller group runs in neighborhoods all over the city…not mine, of course, but who’s to say that there isn’t demand for it?

I have this goofy idea that if I just start broadcasting the dates and locations of my runs, that maybe people will start showing up and running with me, and thus the Deep-Southwest -KC-Almost-Too-Far-Out-to-Still-be-Considered-A-Suburb Running Club will be born.  

Somehow, signing up for an existing organization seems to make just a little more sense.

1.  Stash Chai Spice Black Tea.  I brewed boring old Lipton’s for the longest time (bought 300 bags in bulk from CostCo, so I didn’t have much of a choice!) but decided if I was going to make tea my primary caffeine source, I needed to find something better.  Black Chai tea is the answer.  Caffeinated AND cinnamon-spiced! Oh yes.

2.  A wonderful husband who is willing to make said tea on weekday mornings.  I had a major epiphany a few months ago, after yet another morning at work where I didn’t feel functional until almost lunchtime.  What if I found time to drink my tea at home, before leaving for work, so that I don’t have to struggle quite so hard to operate my brain at 8AM meetings?  Genius!  Tea is tricky, because it takes a long time to cool.  But if Mike starts brewing it for me while I’m dragging myself out of bed after a late class and not-nearly-enough-sleep, by the time I get ready for work and sit down at the table it is perfect. 

3.  The best dogs in the world.  How can you argue otherwise?

They are clearly still completely insane (see: Sebastian gnawing on Simon’s ear, above) but it’s ridiculous how much joy they bring to my life.  Lately in the morning, they’ve been such perfect quiet angels after I bring them in that I almost go to work leaving them full reign of the house.  (In fact, I actually DID forget one Sunday morning and Sebastian greeted Mike at the door after church…oops!) 

No matter how frazzled or grumpy I get, sometimes I just need to remind myself that through it all, life is good.

What little things increase your quality of life?

…my first post in many, many months and I start out by quoting Titanic.  Not cool, Armstrong.

(Please tell me I’m not the only person in the universe who does this…and by this, I mean referring to myself in the third person when I do something dumb.  And not by my legal name; by some “other” name that makes the person who did that dumb thing a completely different individual than the person speaking.  Yes, I’m losing my mind.  Perhaps there’s a reason I haven’t been writing lately.)  It’s only lately that I’ve been feeling the urge to share my thoughts with the world again.  I’ve been pretty much swamped for months with a job I actually enjoy committing to, and a master’s degree I wish would just go and earn itself already. 

I have not run a road race since the Arizona Rock N Roll half marathon in January.  (Which was lovely, but extremely leisurely.) 

I skipped the Westport St. Patrick’s Day Run, which has been a staple of my racing agenda since I moved to Kansas City. 

I am not registered for Rock the Parkway, a race I adore.  Registration is now closed.

The only people who have regularly encouraged me to run around here are either indefinitely injured, or have packed up and left town. 

I feel less like a runner than I have in a really long time.  Runner pity party, table for one…

But as I write this, I still feel encouraged.  I have this sneaky suspicion that no matter how far I’m away, I’ll always come back. 

Because through it all, I’m still a runner.

What I wonder, though, is how many LOST fans are $150 richer today?

The only problem, of course, is that those numbers are cursed.  Good luck with that.

(No, I did not buy a ticket.)

*Mega Millions screencap from http://www.megamillions.com
*LOST image from http://www.lost-media.com

I was a fairly typical Midwestern kid, with a passion for daydreaming and a hatred of cleaning my room.  One particular Saturday, I was doing much more of the former when I was supposed to be working on the later.  I clearly remember my particular daydream that fine summer afternoon (which I admit is a bit strange).  My dad had recently purchased a new fishing boat, and I had boats on the brain.  But not little boats good for navigating the waters of the small lake in our neighborhood – big boats.   Massive houseboats with all kinds of things contained on them.  Skating rinks. Bowling alleys.  (I swear at this point I had never heard of a cruise ship.)

What’s funny about the extent to which I recall that particular Saturday morning, is that I have absolutely no recollection of that Saturday afternoon.  According to legend, my mom got sick of us dawdling upstairs on such a nice day, and sent my brother and me out on a bike ride to get some fresh air.  The details are sketchy – I may have hit a patch of loose gravel, or I may have been showboating as many nine-year-olds do, and rode no-hands past the neighborhood beach.  (The most reliable account of the actual fall was from my then-six-year-old brother.)  At any rate, I took a big spill right in front of the beach, which I’m sure was not exactly what I had planned.  Some kind neighborhood ladies helped me up and offered to take me back home, but being the tough kid that I was, I hopped back on my bike and continued the rest of the way around the lake.  Apparently I was not about to let something like a silly fall get between me and my short break from room-cleaning imprisonment.

It was back home, with my mom tending to my scraped-up appendages, that I started to get loopy.  Remember Ten-Second-Tom from the movie 50 First Dates? I imagine it was a bit like that.  

We repeated the same exchange all the way to the hospital.

“What happened?”
“You fell off your bike.”
“Is my bike OK?”

“What happened?”
“Don’t worry, honey, nothing happened.”
“Then why am I crying?!?!”

I can only imagine how terrifying that time had to be for my parents.  I was enrolled to start at a private gifted school that fall, and suddenly I could barely remember who I was. 

Sometime that evening I snapped out of it, right around the time they gave me a tetanus shot and a Tazmanian Devil Band-Aid.  I stayed at the hospital that night for observation, and stayed up late playing Zelda on Super Nintendo.  I went home the next day, and life went on.  My parents saved a note card they had written for me to reference when I got confused:   

Your name is Sarah Beth.
Today is [a specific date in the summer], 1993.
You fell off your bike.
The President is Bill Clinton.

Looking back, it’s pretty funny.  It’s not like the concussion wiped out all of my memories, but it was certainly selective.  I had told them that Ronald Reagan was the President.  Reagan had left office five years prior – when I was four years old.  The human brain is a complicated and fascinating thing, and I am so lucky to have recovered with no apparent lasting effects.

Lesson 1: Always wear a helmet.

YES.

All the best,

Cheeseburger McGee