The previous week I felt pretty good… so good, that I went so far as to make a “schedule” for my workouts the following week. I had it all plotted out… run 2 miles on this day, do strength training on this day, run 3, yoga, strength, run 2…
And of course, being that arrogant meant that the schedule fell to pieces.
Here’s the lesson that I have to learn and re-learn and re-learn in pregnancy. It doesn’t matter how you feel from day-to-day or even hour-to-hour… that can all rapidly change.
This week I felt increasingly tired and had immense trouble breathing all week. The heat was also on the rise this week. Nobody in Vegas is acclimated to the heat when it first comes on, but when it comes on this early it’s harder and when you’re knocked up it’s apparently even more difficult.
But I’m really going to blame the fatigue and discomfort on the kid. I think “baby it” had a growth spurt.
Notice, one weekend ago it was so cold I was wearing a jacket around. High in the mid 50’s. One week later, the high was in the upper 90’s. Blech…
All the breathing trouble was disconcerting too… I had to use my inhaler more than usual. The doc says that it’s okay, but after using it several times on Saturday, by evening the belly bubbles were on overdrive. So what’s worse, gasping for air all the time or giving the baby a crazed-buzz?
This week, I have no idea what I’m going to do. I must remember to just play it by ear. Building a schedule and failing to meet it made me kind of angry with myself.