28 Weeks

Yesterday I hit 28 weeks, the official start of third trimester.  Baby makes up its own kung fu on an hourly basis.  Today I felt it shift a few times while running, which was new.  It'll punch while I eat as well.  That last one feels awesome [sarcasm].  

No one but the occasional close work friend has dared to touch my growing belly.  I credit the years in NYC and a lingering standoffishness when it comes to personal space.  But all kinds of patients have offered their two cents.  

"Is that a bambino?"  

Yes it is. 

"Boy or girl?"  As though it's your business.

We didn't find out. 

"On purpose?"  Seriously? No, we just forgot that piece of information.

Yup, on purpose.  

"Good for you.  What have you got, one month left?"

Nope, three.  Thanks for playing. 

"Wow.  It must be a boy."  

Okay.  Thanks.

Never mind that I was just as active in the womb and came out at about nine pounds at birth.  I'm amazed at how emphatic the gender stereotypes run, even in a conservative area like this.  But regardless of gender, I'm rather certain this child will come into this world dropping the f-bomb.  

Only in the last week or two has the weight started to actually affect me.  I notice my back while sleeping and if standing static for too long.  Still running, but my longest run of the week is down to 7 or 8 miles at most, and I'm guaranteed to need a side of the road pee stop by 40 minutes in -- one of the good parts about rural life.  I've also had to switch back to Hoka running shoes because of my right ankle.  I could only sigh in resigned agreement when a hospitalist made notice that the waddle had infiltrated my walking.  

But, baby is healthy, and all things considered I'm in a really good place.  Passed my glucose test with a read of 58, which is one of the lowest my OB has seen in her career.  (135 and above is the cutoff for gestational diabetes.)  She credits the running.  The fact that moderate amounts of sugar still can make me nauseous also helps.

Now to survive one more day of work, then I'm off to MO for Christmas.   

Tripawd the Huntress

Sadie is now nine and a half days out from her amputation, and has shown signs of feeling better these last two days.  Periods of autonomous sleeping in lieu of constant snuggling, no indication of nerve pain, swatted Merus in the head when Merus got on her face, and getting a bit more aggressive when it comes to food time. 

Last night I woke to use the bathroom at 1:00am, noticing Sadie was not tucked up in our bed like other nights.  As I got to the other side of the house I heard her cone scraping a bit.  Maybe she was using the litter box again?  Turned on the light in the bathroom, both cats over by the shower. 

Merus caught my eye since she was frantically searching around the shower curtain, circling in and out, sniffing and looking. That only happens when she knows the presence of beans, avocado, asparagus, and mice.  

Sadie had already calmly tri-hopped into the next room.  Found her squatted down and facing away under my desk.  

Chewing. 

Turned on that light, and sure enough there was a tail hanging out of her mouth.  That mouse was toast.  And, impressively, Bad Cat's cone was intact.  

I can never tell if Merus first maimed the critter before Sadie pounced, since Merus only has her front teeth and three canines (no molars), or if Sadie did all the work herself.  Either way, it's clear Bat Cat is feeling better and getting back her game.  I guess this also helps her keep a high protein post-op diet.  Even now as I get ready for my morning waddle "run" she is sitting smug and satiated.  Cue purr-fest.  

Poop surprises

Yesterday I got home from work to Nathan exasperated at the table.  "I need your help.  Sadie stepping in poop earlier and I couldn't get it all off."  Miss Sadie was sitting prim and proper on the kitchen table atop the mail, calmly looking up from her cone at my entrance.

"I got what I could and left the cone off in hopes she'd get the rest.  She cleaned everything else but that foot."  

We'd removed the litter box lids so that Bad Cat could negotiate them with her plastic collar.  Apparently she still had trouble turning around.  Nathan held her while I wedged a sudsy washcloth between her toes.  

Last night I built a new fire and saw a credit card statement atop the burn pile unopened.  I asked if he meant to keep it.  "No, it's got poop on it.  Sadie sat on it before you got home."  The slightest tinge of tan on one corner of the envelope.  He didn't want the contents either.  He's thorough with disposal of poop cooties, it seems.  

An hou ago I heard Sadie kicking around the litter for a good minute.  Then Nathan.  "Whatcha doin' in there, Sadie?  Are ya... Oh, Sadie, don't do that!  Sadie, stop that!"  

When Nathan called her name she look up from inspecting her poop, but since the cone extends so far beyond her face she ended up hooking the poop on the edge.  Upon lifting her head the poop rolled down the inside to her neck. 

I walked over to check out the commotion, and Nathan walked out holding the cone with the tips of two fingers.  "I guess we should wash it, huh?"  The only evidence I saw were two little smudges on the collar's edge, but Nathan's face was priceless.  Sadie came out and sat before us, again all prim and proper but more relaxed without the cone.  

Just you wait until March, Nathan.  Just you wait.   

Tripawd

Sadie, aka Bad Cat, aka Toader, has gone through a big change. 

She had an amputation five days ago. She developed a tumor that spread to both her left humerus and scapula, but the more likely source was chondral or synovial. What felt firm and osseous from the outside ended up as a large fluid muck of a tumor big enough to dislocate her shoulder. 

Nicely, her lungs -- the next location of spread for synovial/chondral tumors -- was totally clear, as were all other lymph nodes in her neck and other three legs. 

The entire staff at Alpine Veterinary Hospital loved her, which figures.  She always makes others swoon.  The surgery went very well as dos her initial recovery.  Our DVM said she spent much of her second day there happily lounging under a heat lamp.  Back home the next night she was practically her usual self aside from one less arm. 

The scar is big but not heinous, but she can reach some stitches to lick.  So she has also ended up with a cone.  She's strong enough to move with it, but she quickly realized its sight and maneuverability limitations and so mostly sleeps.  We take it off when she eats and leave it off until she starts licking or until we have to leave home.  She has had a bit of nerve pain, but so far we have not had to administer meds as it is in small enough waves that are fairly well spread apart.  Apparently cats typically experience little to no pain after amputation, which is quite amazing when your job deals with human postoperative pain on a daily basis.  She has only managed to ditch the cone once. 

Nine more days until the stitches come out. Mice beware -- I doubt missing a limb will slow her down for very long!

21 Weeks

Apparently everything changes after becoming pregnant, and earlier than you'd expect.  At this point I'm just past halfway.  The hash marks at the top of one of my pregnancy apps is now slightly right of center, making the visual representation now much more impending.  My three pairs of faithful surgical green scrub pants, the only non-pregnancy pants wearable past 12 weeks, now bind when I bend over.

And, baby started kicking and punching two weeks ago exactly, at 19 weeks.  We were in Denver for the Rock 'n' Roll series so I could run my pregnancy swan song race (the half marathon).  The day before the race Nathan took notice that the Royals pulled ahead of the Blue Jays 5-3, and baby gave three quick jabs just as he announced it out loud.  Before then the whole thing was happening and yet still so abstract.  Not any more -- the little parasite move constantly since two days after those first moves.  There's no waiting for me to sit or lay down quietly like some articles say.  We might just have our hands full with a little tirade.  My mother will be so pleased if that's the case....

It's great to be out of first trimester, but on the whole my experience has been tame.  The air felt like thick molasses, so walking two minutes to get lunch felt like an hour excursion.  Nausea started around 11:00 and progressed in strength throughout the day.  No vomiting, though once I was very close.  My good habit of making enough dinner to have leftovers to take for lunch came to a crawl since food never appealed two days in a row.  Took a while to realize that, so more foot went to waste than I'd like.  I was very worried about accidental ingestion of dairy causing GI rejection because historically that leaves every internal organ in my abdomen on fire for a good 48 hours, so throughout the summer I meticulously worked my way from a taste of yogurt to an entire container to now even tolerating foods like real pizza.  In a rural area like we have, its hard to avoid dairy (hence the accidental ingestions before - all from four little pieces of feta!) so a reinstated tolerance has been a relief.

I was able to run the Creede Mountain Run, a 22 mile trail race that goes up to the Continental Divide and back down, at 13 weeks -- OB approved and with evidence based data on pregnancy and exercise to bolster the method.  Instructions were to keep the pace at a level for which I could still talk and to make sure I consumed lots of fluid.  Spent at least half the race with a woman named Andrea from Colorado Springs.  Turns out she is a speech therapist and a former dancer.  We had fun.  The more races I run in Colorado the more time I get to see and spend time meeting other female runners instead of all guys.  As for my time, I was only a half hour slower than last year, and I even stopped part way down the descent to pee (which means fluid intake was good).  4h14m, 4th female and 8th overall out of 22 runners.  Women took five of the top ten spots (!!), AND my time from last year was two minutes faster than this year's first female finisher.  There's only a little bit of pride in that last note.

Since I hit second trimester things have continued to slow down and grow.  Running "intervals," which I usually refer to as "fast waddles," means on days when I feel fast for the first time in eons I'm still at least two minutes per mile slower than before.  Not worried about that, but it is interesting to note the different in effort that gaining at least fifteen pounds creates.  I'm able to stay awake past 7:30pm, though I'm still in bed by 8:30/9:00 most nights.  If I have more than a small portion of sugar -- and I mean small -- then the nausea comes back with a vengeance.  A coworker once gave me a silly pretend superlative deemed the Human Vulture Award for all the chocolate (and everything available) I usually eat; now I can barely have one snack sized Snickers or equivalent.  Same thing goes if I don't stick to a high protein diet, which means my saliva will make me nauseous in the evening.

As I mentioned above, I did the Denver Rock 'N' Roll half marathon two weeks ago (at 19 weeks).  Dropping four thousand feet in elevation made me feel five if not ten pounds lighter.  I planned to be satisfied with just breaking two hours even, but managed a surprise 1h48m.  My back was tired and my feet were sore, but baby kicked its second day in a row not even an hour later.  I kept with the fluid plan and took all water and Gatorade stops along the course, so I even stopped to pee at mile 9.  The race photos, on the other hand....  I may look like a waddling pregnant lady with a packaging problem while running (ugh...), but at least I don't waddle when I walk!

Nathan has been very tolerant of the hormones so far.  The few times I have tripped and fallen, like one week ago when my foot snagged the garden hose on the way to the car, I always superman slide and always bonk my knees (not my belly), just like before pregnancy.  But because hormones are involved now, I immediately cry upon hitting the ground and it keeps going for at least five minutes.  Poor Nathan had no idea what to do about me.  I usually drive to work and he drives home, so as we make our way off the ranch and onto the highway I was still a sniffling and snorting mess.  I can't recall that morning without laughing hysterically, even now, especially when I picture Nathan's bewildered face.

We are almost done getting wood for the season, with a plan for two cords tomorrow to hopefully round out our pile.  Nathan does all the cutting and we stick to smaller trees.  I use an ax to clean off the branches, a super easy task when you pick fully dry trees, and I stay in the back of the truck to stack and organize instead of carrying unless they logs are small enough.  Even with being pregnant it is still more efficient for Nathan and I to go out on our own since the neighbors and their kids can be, in their words, like herding cats.  At least for now, that is.  My guess is I only have a couple more weeks left in that window when considering how fast my belly is growing.

One last note:  No, I am not taking weekly bump pictures.  I say this because numerous people have asked.  I've never had that kind of sentimentality in my adult life.  There will be a million baby photos after it is born, but baby bumps and documenting an awkward process is just not my thing.

San Luis Peak - birthday 14er

Before moving to Colorado my birthday tradition was sitting down with a friend or two to devour a watermelon.  Now the tradition is to climb a peak.  

I chose San Luis Peak because it is within an hour's drive, it's not exposed, and it was accessible for someone like Nathan who has been out of the routine. 

Total mileage out and back: 13 miles.

Highest elevation: 14,014 feet.

The trailhead, north of Creede:

Making our way up to the 12,500 ft saddle: 

These little ones waddled with us for a bit:

At the 12,500 ft saddle.  A small descent is followed by the long walk-up approach:

We have to descend to the right, follow the along the inside as the mountains take the trail curving left, then pop over the grassy saddle in the distant left:

Heading up to the grassy pass:

Columbine, the state flower:

Over the grassy pass the trail makes a sharp right and curves on the inside of more ridges with a handful of snowy passes.  I fell through to my thigh a few times, but that's as few as it got:

Looking back as we start up the side of San Luis Peak proper:

Lots of false top outs.  The summit is back there somewhere:

Nathan didn't like that I snuck one of his face:

Grass gives way to scree:

Scree gives way to grass and then more scree.  The rock bulges are cairns, the form of trail markings used out west:

The summit!  And my GPS was only off by five feet:

Birthday accomplished:

A tour of Del Norte Peak

So far this spring has granted me seven summits of North Twin Mtn (10,500 ft), with lots of steep ups and downs to get there, and one of Del Norte Peak (12,300 ft) for longer durations at lower grades.  I still want to explore trails closer to Wolf Creek, but a series of events have made routes accessible from home more desirable.  This became an opportunity to run my own marathon on the DN Peak's forest roads before bushwhacking to the top.

Just after leaving the parking lot:

An ATV type road forks off at the two mile mark.  They are still pretty muddy and wet.  Follow the road as it turns left:

Up a steeper segment, then get views of the neighboring valley including Blue Ridge and North/South Twin, and start to get views of the Sangre de Cristos on the opposite side of the valley:

Once the road turns south again you hit what I call the "4-mile cattle guard."  During the summer the cattle from our ranch are hanging out on one side or the other of here at ~9500 ft:

The road starts flanking the actual ridge as it continues to ascend at 2-12% grades.  Coming up on 7.2 miles is the turn off that allows a longer approach but also a western (read: snowless) ascent.  Turn before the "7-mile cattle guard", now at 10,500 ft:

The grades of ascent are numerically the same but feel greater because there's less variance, but after another good mile there's a downhill piece that lets your legs get their feeling back.  It also brings a glimpse at the northern face of Del Norte Peak:

The bottom of the hill navigates through a logging area.  I never have figured out if this is commercial or part of the burn protection, but there have been downed trees hanging around here even since last year when Nathan and I last made a full summit and took this route:

Another look on the inside of the bend.  Currently at 10,700 ft:

A bit more climbing as you travel west, then the road flattens for a couple miles while passing what can be camp sites or areas for folks (like us with permits) to collect wood.  At 11.5 miles, after wondering for some time if you blew right on past the peak, is the initial turn towards the summit.  Now at 11,000 ft, there's lots of mud and swampy areas due to continued melt and runoff:

I stayed on the road for something like a quarter mile, maybe a half mile.  Now you are getting closer, 11,300 ft:

And at some point you just have to decide to turn off and bushwhack.  Just keep the top in your view and climb straight up:

The trees begin to thin as you work your way up and increasing incline:

And now the real work begins - 20-45% grades per my GPS watch.  Above tree line is always awesome.  Just over a half mile and another thousand feet of gain remaining:

This was during one of the 45% grade sections.  Eye on the prize while trying to beat the clouds and weather:

I beat the clouds by about a minute, so my proof-of-summit shot meant I stood with my head at the base of a cloud.  13-ish miles completed.  Here is looking east.  

There's a glass jar with multiple registers, pencils, and a few odds and ends left by previous summiters.  Someone also stowed a tequila bottle amongst the rocks, but that is long ago consumed:

Clouds start to thicken, so time to descend.  Looking to whence I came, to retrace my steps back to the bottom:

After retracing my steps and getting back to the logging areas thunder starts to roll in to the south.  I'm in the clear before any lightning chance has sprouted.  Hey, I was just up there:

The long downhill also means less effort and more looking around.  Saw a bunch of cow prints, but also a few elk who had crossed the road between the 4- and 7-mile cattle guards.  Lightning was starting to strike back by the peak, so I didn't longer long:

Below the 4-mile cattle guard, a glimpse at the baby aspen trees filling in areas of burn recovery.  There were much more ashen stumps visible last year:

Once back at the parking lot I had a solid 26 miles, so I went ahead with the silly loop around the lot for an even marathon of 26.2.  Total ascent was just shy of 5000 ft of gain.  Satisfying and peaceful day.