Kristy Maute

Room to Breathe

The weekend came and left. Somehow it is Tuesday. I don’t have a long run recap to tell you about. I don’t have pretty pictures from the trails (except maybe one). Instead I’m finding room for breath in my training plan. Every week I have five ideal runs planned. In the real world I really want to squeeze in four runs and yoga and strength. When life gets really real, I sometimes only run three times. I’m learning to pick and choose my runs based on what time is available and how far I can venture on any given day.

Thursday's trail run — Thursday’s trail run

Last week was a great week. I kicked off the week with an easy 3 miles. Tuesday night I ran while Cole was at swim practice. Five amazing miles. The plan called for hills on Tuesday, but my only time for running was during swim. Instead I ran towards a bridge. I changed my goal: run the bridge twice and make it my fastest mile. My bridge crossing mile was run at a 8:49 pace. The entire five miles was an overall pace of 9:19. Wednesday night I needed a night of nothing. I hung out with my husband after the boys went to bed. Thursday I ran trails. Seven more amazing miles where I was amazed by the speed I’m finding in my legs. I’m running 9s on easier trails. This has never happened. My last miles on my runs are reaching into the 8s. Thursday night I was high on running, high on the success I’m finding in my training, and high on what I know is possible. I went to bed on Friday night still celebrating my weekday runs.

Saturday morning I woke. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. Chet woke up with a fever. We snuggled all morning. Sunday morning Chet woke up and was miserable. We also had a jam-packed day. While Chet rested with Christian, I ran what I could. It was a fall back week, so I was only scheduled to run 10. I got in 5.5 miles instead with my faithful running partner Alex (side note: this was his longest run ever! I’m working on increasing his mileage so he can do more runs with me).

As I went to bed on Sunday, I missed my long run. I found myself contemplating making up the miles on Monday. Logically I know a missed run is a missed run. There isn’t (and shouldn’t be) any making up. I also know I have 15 schedule this weekend. Logically I knew I needed to let it go, but part of me wanted those miles.

And just like that life took over. Chet was worse on Monday. He is teething horribly (possibly 8 teeth). His fever kept spiking. I spent the entire day holding him. Running was so far from my brain. Today (Tuesday) I thought I’d just pick up where I left off. I’d run an easy 4 miles. Instead I took Chet to the doctor. I spent another day pacing the house with Chet.

So I’m listening…

Life is telling me that this week is meant for mothering. A missed run (or a few) won’t make or break my training plan. I’ll be thankful for fresh legs on Saturday (when running time is nonnegotiable thanks to another packed weekend. 5am start time.) I’ll run when I can. I’m mothering as much as my baby needs. And work, well, I’m not going to win employee of the year but there are other years for that accomplishment. I will never get today back, so today I sat on the couch with a sleeping baby in my arms and my heart was happy.

Celebrating Eleven Months

Double Ones. Chet is eleven months old. This age is without a doubt my favorite stage of life. He’s blossoming. He’s coming to life. His personality is being defined. He’s maturing into a toddler. His actions are deliberate, and he’s become very interactive. We didn’t check too many physical milestones off the list this month – he is now taking a few steps but isn’t yet walking, and he can cruise along furniture at warp speedy – but he really has changed so much.

Ball is his favorite word. Anything that is round is a ball. When reading books, he points to every circle and calls it a ball. He wakes up in the morning, and requests a ball. Christian has asked him where his ball is and he will track one down.

Favorite moment for the month – When I was getting out of the shower, I was combing my hair. He was intently watching. He took the brush from me, and he started combing my hair for me. Sweetest moment. And then he hit me in the head!

His language and communication skills are really developing. He says the obvious words: BALL, mama, papa (whispered still!), Cole Cole. He also says Jack (my mom’s dog), woof, and today he said Tree over and over again(thanks to the Christmas tree we brought home).

I almost hate to say it, but I do think his sleep is trending towards improving. We still have “bad” nights (like last night – bed at 7pm, up at 9:30pm, back asleep at 1130pm, up at 4am to nurse, up at 5am to nurse, awake at 6:40am) but we are having a lot of “good” nights (one wake-up normally between 2:30am and 4:00am). He has even treated us to one sleep-in until 9am with only one nursing at 5:00am. We are definitely making progress.

He is still nursing. After depleting our frozen milk stash down to 1 bag (panic!), I have since added 6 more bags to the collection. I have no doubt we will make it to a year without introducing formula. This feels like such a huge accomplishment, and I’m so proud of both myself and Chet and my body for doing everything we needed to do in order for Chet to get this nourishment.

I can not believe my next post will be titled Celebrating One Year!

Remember last month how Chet was teething. We are STILL teething but it has hit a new level this weekend (fever, blood blister-ish looking gums, no appetite, and no sleep.)

Walking! (of course I couldn't get back fast enough for a full body shot!) — Walking! (of course I couldn’t get back fast enough for a full body shot!)

Want to see how he has grown? Check out…

Weird Fun Fact: One of the first things I noticed about Christian when we started date was that he NEVER looks like himself in photos. Guess who else doesn’t look like himself in photos? Chet! Not one of these photos really look like him. Ha!

Reignited

In one month and one day, my baby boy will be one. Do the math. We have celebrated 10 months and 30 days of our wonderful itty-bitty creation. It hit me this morning as I nursed Chet. He is about to be one. I know this is life and a normal progression. It just happened so fast, and life has changed so much over the past year. Dynamics have changed. Relationships have evolved. This little guy who is one day shy of his 11 month birthday, has completely redefined our family.

99% of that redefinition is great. He has added layers and layers of love to our house. But the first year is hard. Going from one child to two is hard. Change is hard. Adding newborn mom to my resume has been hard. (and oh so rewarding all at the same time).

While I’m reminiscing about newborn days where 23 hours out of every day was spent with a baby curled up on my chest, and while I’m laughing at the character he is growing into, I’m realizing the one thing I miss most out of the past year is my title of wife. Not in the obvious ways. Not even in the less obvious ways. I am Christian’s wife. We parent together. We support each other. We love each other. We eat dinner together every night. We go to bed together. We wake up together. We tackle household chores together. Outside of work, we are almost always together.

But I miss us. I miss our play time. I miss too many glasses of wine nights. I miss the nights we played stripe-Wii (yes! Try it! It’s fun! But make sure the kids aren’t home!) I miss the carefree part of our relationship that has been neglected for the past year (maybe two if you add pregnancy). I miss the carefree part of me. For a moment, I want to abandon to-do lists and bills and diapers and homework and work and every single responsibility I carry around with me each day. I want to be my husband’s girlfriend for a moment.

Today I sat at work with tears rolling down my cheeks because our plans for a babysitter on Saturday night fell through. Once I was done being sad, I realized something.

Wanting all of this….it is a HUGE progression for me (and totally normal for a new mom!). The fact that I have a desire to be something besides a mom right now is huge. For the past 11 months, I have wanted to do nothing besides mother my boys. I’m ready to reclaim a little piece of my life. I’m ready to be more than Chet’s mom (and Cole’s mom too). I am sad I won’t be going out with my husband Saturday, but I’m so happy to have the spark reignited. Another date night will be planned for the near future.

Now I have to run…the husband is out of the shower, and I have a glass of wine waiting for me! Cheers!

Good Decision

Know what you want to do, hold the thought firmly, and do every day what should be done, and every sunset will see you that much nearer the goal. ~ Elbert Hubbard

If there are two words to describe this week, they would be good decision. On Monday, I started off my 3 mile run. My shins felt tight. I slowed down and settled into my run. Mile 1: 9:o2. Not excepting a nine, I decided to go with it. Good Decision. Maybe I could get my short run into the 8s which is a goal of mine this winter. Mile 2: 9:00. Mile 3: 8:40. I ended up running 3.1 miles at a pace of 8:52. Amazing how much stronger I can be when I ignore numbers, when I don’t let my garmin display pace, and when I just run what feels right for me on that day. Tuesday I tackled speed work. 1/2 mile warm up followed by 6×400 and a 1/2 mile cool down. My legs were tired that day from my speedy run the day before, but I went anyways. Good decision. I knew my body needed it. After my warm-up, they really started to respond. 7:30ish pace for my speed work. Wednesday I planned on running 6 miles at race pace. Wednesday I was exhausted. Chet wasn’t sleeping. My work office is freezing leaving my body tense and tight each day. I decided rest was my better choice. Good decision. Thursday was the same story just magnified. I rested again. Good decision. Friday I knew I needed to loosen up my muscles. I ran an easy 3 miles with stiff legs and a slow pace. Good decision.

This all lead me to my Saturday run.

I was torn between running before Cole’s swim meet or after his swim meet. The first option meant I’d be running with the sunrise. The second option meant I’d be running with the sunset. After consulting with my friend Carrie who was running with me, I decided to run at after his swim meet. Best decision all week. Friday night Chet woke up once, and he continued to sleep until 8:30am. I got 10 hours of sleep that was only interrupted once. I am so glad I choose to sleep in. Best decision ever.

As I drove to Carrie’s house, it hit me. I was running 14 miles. I’ve run that distance once since Chet was born. It was not a great run. I finished the run feeling defeated. Tired. Exhausted. I wanted a good run this weekend. The 14 miles I ran yesterday were easy. Every single mile was comfortable. We ran on cruise control. Our pace was even. We talked the whole way. When my watched beeped to signify the end of our run, I could have kept on going knocking off a few more miles. Running 14 miles felt easy yesterday. I never counted down miles. I never focused on getting to a street corner or past a light post to help carry me through. The run was simple and good and a huge confidence boost. It was exactly what I needed as my runs enter into new territory for me.

While I love my training plan and the structure it provides each week, I’m loving the flexibility I’m giving myself even more. My body is responding to this method of training so much more than a rigid plan. I have goals for the week and run each day according to how my body is feeling. I’m feeling stronger with each run and more confident and relaxed as each week passes.

14 miles felt easy yesterday. How did I get here!

(My one bad decision for the week: Fuel. I did not eat nearly enough before my run on Saturday. Around mile 11, I started having stomach cramps due to hunger. By the time I got home, my stomach hated me. I then ate until I feel asleep! Lesson Learned! I definitely need to do better in that category.)

Mom Brain

Laughing.

Tuesday, while I was tackling speedwork on my lunch break, my phone was busy blogging. I keep my phone in my back butt pocket when I run for an emergency or for a photo I just have to stop and take. Sometime between 400s, my butt started blogging. Somehow my wordpress app opened, an old draft was opened, and it was published. I have to laugh. My husband called. I thought you were running. Why are you blogging about Chet being three weeks old? I thought about deleting it, but in truth, it was fun to read.

We have come a long way since Chet was three weeks old. It was a nice reminder. It was nice to take inventory of progress. It is also comforting to know he is still a baby and some things don’t change over night.

Last night was another doozy of a night for Chet. He was up from midnight until 3am. I was exhausted. I wasn’t feeling well. My body ached. After nursing him and realizing he wasn’t going back to sleep, I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to get out of bed, I couldn’t. My body felt like a brick at the bottom of a pool. I didn’t even have the energy to move a leg. Christian saved me and Chet. He rocked him. He swayed with him. He snuggled him back to sleep, but as soon as they got close to the crib Chet woke back up.

I know this doesn’t sound like progress. I know most babies are sleeping by the time they are 11 months old. I know. I don’t know why Chet doesn’t. I do know he will when he’s ready.

And I have to laugh again because even though Chet has progressed a lot since three weeks of life in all areas of his life but sleeping, our biggest hurdle this week just like then (just like my butt accidentally blogged) is also boobs and gas. Last weekend he decided to bite me. Not once or twice, but a few times. I decided to pump and bottle feed since he was refusing to nurse. I thought maybe Chet was weaning, but he’s back to nursing again. Who knows? And gas. He’s really diving into eating everything we eat. I think his belly is trying hard to keep up. If he doesn’t use the bathroom before bed, it seems like he is up all night with gas (see above).

So here we are approaching Chet’s 11 months birthday when so much has changed and yet so much is still the same. And somewhere in the past 11 months, my running is changing too. My legs are starting to get speedy. The 400s I was running while my phone was busy blogging are becoming easier. My legs are getting stronger. I had my first run with an overall pace in the 8s. I am skipping tonight’s run because my body is tired. My brain is tired. I’m resting now, but on Saturday I will be running 14 miles at some point in the day depending on how Chet sleeps.