For the entire first trimester, I was way too sick to do much more than 1) vomit or 2) be miserably nauseous on the couch all day. Working out did not happen even a little bit. But, I lost weight as opposed to gaining it because I couldn’t eat anything. So I guess that was the silver lining, because it helped to keep me from growing into something resembling a whale. Which I was CERTAIN would happen when I got pregnant.
Then with the start of the second trimester and the return of my ability to eat and have energy, I started working out with a new trainer (my old one left) twice a week. I knew I should be doing more on my own, but I was so caught up in this new energy that I was using it all to research baby things. Registry must haves. Nursery ideas. Discussing these things for hours with L every day. Cleaning out closets. Reorganizing kitchen pantries. (Well, pantry. Singular.) You know. Basic nesting tendencies that apparently we all go through while preggo. (Oh, and also, dealing with less than stellar rental situation at the condo we own/rent out. Otherwise known as the bane of my existence. Which is an entire other post on its own regarding broken leases, mold removal, the replacement of hardwood floors… Which will probably never get written because unless I’m directly dealing with it, I try to pretend it doesn’t exist.)
But then. The other day. I went to zip up my favorite pair of boots (those pictured in the blog’s header) and I almost COULDN’T get the zippers all the way up over my calves. Granted, they aren’t super loose boots to begin with, but still. It was a wake up call. Slowly and surely, I’m starting to swell in areas other than my belly and my boobs. And, yes, I made it through the first half of my pregnancy without becoming a blimp–there is still pleeeeeenty of time for that to happen! So I’m upping my game. I’ll still do two days a week with my trainer, but I also will be in the gym on my own 2-3 additional times a week on the treadmill for at least half an hour.
I went twice last week. The first time was misery. I didn’t feel like doing it. The entire treadmill workout felt monotonous. But THEN the second time, I made a pattern out of it. I started at an incline of 2 for 2 minutes, then inclined at 4 for 4 minutes, 6 for 6, 8 for 8… (A couple at 10) and then I went back down by 2 every 2 minutes. It made time go by SO much faster. When I hit the 30 minute mark, I could have kept going. (I didn’t because I had errands to run.) But I guess that’s how I work best. Watching the clock–but not in the eye-rolling-ugh-is-this-over-yet way, instead, in an interval-slash-change-things-up way. And it totally helped.
For a non-preggo me, this wouldn’t be the BEST end result of a treadmill workout. But I was conscious of my heart rate, trying to keep it between 130 & 140 the whole time, and this is soooooo much better than nothing 🙂