A mesh hammock...for my bladder?!
Okay.
When I say, "I did some research" later in this post, just know that means a Google search where Iread skimmed the top 3 articles that looked legit on the first page of results. I am also going to try and avoid using the V word (rhymes with Fagina) because I think I've read it 100 times now during my "research". Not that we are not all adults, but I still giggle like when we had the talk at school in 5th grade and we left with some maxi pads which I may or may not have put in the desks of my male classmates.
I know I've complained incessantly about the physique I acquired through swimming. I will forever, probably.
I did gymnastics, then played softball and swam at the same time. In gymnastics, after watching the teacher let us fall from the top of the rope we climbed, into the foam pit below, my Dad had huge reservations about where that was going. He was super vigilant about safety and apparently watching us fall into the foam pit made him cringe and gave him palpitations. When I was 7, at a girl's birthday pool party from gymnastics, we were all doing flips off the diving board. In a misjudgement of distance I flipped and hit my face on the board and needed "saving" from the water since I was floating, half conscious. I still stand by the theory that my huge head threw my equilibrium off. I have literally watched Alex dive into the ground when going to pick things up, head first. He looks like an Ostrich burying his head in the sand (literally, Alex went head first into some sand one time...).
That was it. My Dad took very strong measures to not encourage me to pursue the gymnastics. I ended up quitting on my own; after all, Olympic gymnasts are doing flips and super advanced skills when they are 5. I was nowhere near. I still love to watch the sport and think those girls are amazing. I recorded the team competition of the London Olympics and will still watch some of it every now and again.
On to softball. I was average. For a couple of seasons, did I cry every time I struck out? Yeah, I did. Did I cry on the pitcher's mound when I started to get crazy and no one took me out? Again, yes. In general crying is my first response to strong (any) emotion happy to sad, so none of this is surprising. I did love to play though and I loved after game snacks even more. Remember when your parents used to let you buy that packet of powered sugar that you ate by dipping a candy stick to cling onto the sugar? Awesome.
But then I had to make a choice. It was swimming or softball. Both took up a large chunk of time. I showed so much improvement with swimming at such a rapid rate, I chose swimming.
I just wish Michael Phelps, okay not him...he was younger. Maybe my coach, my parents, my team mates...anyone...
I wish they would have taken me to the side and gently broke the news to me, that I was never going to be on top of the sport. I mean...5'1", small hands and feet. Not happening. I also wish they would have taken a boy swimmer, said, "look at his body." No problem. Male swimmers are hot. "Now push him down to your height and shrink his arms and legs. That's what you will look like."
Seriously!
I was wearing medium/large shirts and size 0 pants. That is not attractive on a girl.
I did have a school record for the 100 Butterfly for one year since I swam the first year Colleyville opened. I think it was a 1:08.something. I wish I would have taken a picture of the record board as proof, but maybe I was too embarrassed because even I knew that was no record time. It was obliterated 2 years later down to a minute or under.
Fast forward to adulthood after I gained the freshman and beyond 40 by letting myself have a lot of fun with restauranting and alcohol.
I decided it was time to get my shit together. I started running.
Because I used to swim 4-ish miles a day, running was the only acceptable match in cardio effectiveness and building up running endurance was pretty easy. I would run through Highland Park to the Katy Trail when we lived in Dallas and run back or to the gym and run back. All these loops were easily 4-5-6 miles.
My poor swimming muscles were not used to the pounding stress of the road though and soon (much to my own fault) my knees and other joints began to scream at me to please stop as I aged. I mean, I would walk in after a 6 mile run, with all intentions of stretching out and be like, "oh, what are you guys watching? I'll watch and yes, I'll eat a bag of Lays potato chips too!"
So that brings me to the present.
I still run and supplement it with Pilates which has helped my knees and forces me to stretch.
Don't be jealous, but I take Pilates at a studio. Yes, a studio...not 24 hour fitness or other membership gym (although I have a membership to 24, too). Some girls are in to make up and hair and style and since I cannot do either of those things and have no style, I am in to different kinds of work outs. I'm always looking for ways to reel myself in after a 2 month binge on Mexican food and ice cream. Remember all the weight I lost from the stress and depression of new mothering? Now that I am my happy self again, it's back! It never lets me down. I'd rather be happy?...I guess...
I started Pilates because my back and shoulders have excellent muscle memory and boot camp type work outs using weights started to bulk them back up.
Pilates is stretching and doing little, but deep, excruciatingly painful movements that work your core and build lean muscle (apparently). Basically it's exercises and stretching that I would never do on my own and trust me, I've tried. I've laid on a mat at the gym with all intention of doing just 2 minutes worth of concentrated abs and then after about 30 seconds, just laid there and listened to my music (with my eyes closed...YES! I am that a-hole taking up space not working out!).
All of my lean muscles are hidden by two inches of sweet, padded love, but trust me...there's a six-pack under there somewhere.
When we dissected the feral cats in high school anatomy (I did not know what the word feral meant then...I thought it was a breed) Lindsey and I picked the biggest one. We literally scooped through inches of yellow fat to get to the muscles and organs. We named her Brunhilda and it was awesome. I will donate my body to science so they can do the same..."oh wow, did not expect to see such large amounts of lean muscle under all of that!!!"
The women in Pilates are generally hilarious. The average age of the women I work out with there is mid-40ish and I learn all kinds of things, most recently about bladder prolapse.
Yes, that's where the muscles around the bladder become so weak, they can no longer hold your bladder in place, so it falls...falls right out.
I thought it was mostly common for older woman who had had children or (from my research) a history of frequent constipation, but a lady in class with us, who found her bladder hanging between her legs one morning, was not that old and her doctor said it was from running. I hear she has a nice, mesh hammock holding her bladder back in place. I also also hear that using the balls from 50 Shades of Grey help prevent loss of muscle tone up in there. (I've never read the book, but it was explained to me in detail, and I've been wondering ever since...)
Now, I hear a lot of stories in Pilates that I don't always believe, but it got me worrying and I thought about how much I have run (not marathons or anything, but a decent amount). I started to see commercials about suing hospitals over faulty installation of bladder mesh hammocks and even my doctor at my last appointment gave me a bladder survey which has never been done before.
I have bladder on the brain.
And like most busy moms, Yes. I've held it for a whole day before because there is no good time for a restroom break sometimes and you just forget! 8 PM rolls around and you can't figure out what you're so angry about and why you can't sit still...it's having to pee, friend! Then I wait a little longer because damn it! I just want to sit on the couch and read my US Weekly(s) (backed up from 4 weeks ago) in peace.
Every time I run now, all I picture is my bladder muscles slowly tearing away from their holding position. It used to be pretending to run with my celebrity crushes (I've taken many a long runs with Ryan Gosling...whatever gets you through, right?)
Picturing my weakening bladder freaks me out.
I've resorted to power walking sometimes, but it makes me feel like a jack ass (because I look like I'm freaking training for Olympic speed walking) and I always sneak a few running steps in because really, I'd rather be running.
Like with all prolapse and most other health issues, the answer seems to be: eat more fiber.
So while I look for a comparable cardio replacement, I will eat more fiber...and run.*
*no fact-checking services were utilized before or after writing this and least of all, no medical expert was consulted.
When I say, "I did some research" later in this post, just know that means a Google search where I
I know I've complained incessantly about the physique I acquired through swimming. I will forever, probably.
I did gymnastics, then played softball and swam at the same time. In gymnastics, after watching the teacher let us fall from the top of the rope we climbed, into the foam pit below, my Dad had huge reservations about where that was going. He was super vigilant about safety and apparently watching us fall into the foam pit made him cringe and gave him palpitations. When I was 7, at a girl's birthday pool party from gymnastics, we were all doing flips off the diving board. In a misjudgement of distance I flipped and hit my face on the board and needed "saving" from the water since I was floating, half conscious. I still stand by the theory that my huge head threw my equilibrium off. I have literally watched Alex dive into the ground when going to pick things up, head first. He looks like an Ostrich burying his head in the sand (literally, Alex went head first into some sand one time...).
That was it. My Dad took very strong measures to not encourage me to pursue the gymnastics. I ended up quitting on my own; after all, Olympic gymnasts are doing flips and super advanced skills when they are 5. I was nowhere near. I still love to watch the sport and think those girls are amazing. I recorded the team competition of the London Olympics and will still watch some of it every now and again.
On to softball. I was average. For a couple of seasons, did I cry every time I struck out? Yeah, I did. Did I cry on the pitcher's mound when I started to get crazy and no one took me out? Again, yes. In general crying is my first response to strong (any) emotion happy to sad, so none of this is surprising. I did love to play though and I loved after game snacks even more. Remember when your parents used to let you buy that packet of powered sugar that you ate by dipping a candy stick to cling onto the sugar? Awesome.
But then I had to make a choice. It was swimming or softball. Both took up a large chunk of time. I showed so much improvement with swimming at such a rapid rate, I chose swimming.
I just wish Michael Phelps, okay not him...he was younger. Maybe my coach, my parents, my team mates...anyone...
I wish they would have taken me to the side and gently broke the news to me, that I was never going to be on top of the sport. I mean...5'1", small hands and feet. Not happening. I also wish they would have taken a boy swimmer, said, "look at his body." No problem. Male swimmers are hot. "Now push him down to your height and shrink his arms and legs. That's what you will look like."
Seriously!
I was wearing medium/large shirts and size 0 pants. That is not attractive on a girl.
I did have a school record for the 100 Butterfly for one year since I swam the first year Colleyville opened. I think it was a 1:08.something. I wish I would have taken a picture of the record board as proof, but maybe I was too embarrassed because even I knew that was no record time. It was obliterated 2 years later down to a minute or under.
Fast forward to adulthood after I gained the freshman and beyond 40 by letting myself have a lot of fun with restauranting and alcohol.
 |
| YIKES!!! I call this 'having the fat Schmidtty time of my life'. It was fun, but, yeah... I have laughed like a crazy person multiple times since finding this picture...I don't even know where to begin...I guess I'd start with the glasses? |
I decided it was time to get my shit together. I started running.
Because I used to swim 4-ish miles a day, running was the only acceptable match in cardio effectiveness and building up running endurance was pretty easy. I would run through Highland Park to the Katy Trail when we lived in Dallas and run back or to the gym and run back. All these loops were easily 4-5-6 miles.
My poor swimming muscles were not used to the pounding stress of the road though and soon (much to my own fault) my knees and other joints began to scream at me to please stop as I aged. I mean, I would walk in after a 6 mile run, with all intentions of stretching out and be like, "oh, what are you guys watching? I'll watch and yes, I'll eat a bag of Lays potato chips too!"
 |
| I miss the Katy Trail. Even though Irving has the Campion Trail and there have been attacks on the Katy Trail, it just seems like you will get murdered on the Campion Trail at any time, not just dawn or dusk... |
So that brings me to the present.
I still run and supplement it with Pilates which has helped my knees and forces me to stretch.
Don't be jealous, but I take Pilates at a studio. Yes, a studio...not 24 hour fitness or other membership gym (although I have a membership to 24, too). Some girls are in to make up and hair and style and since I cannot do either of those things and have no style, I am in to different kinds of work outs. I'm always looking for ways to reel myself in after a 2 month binge on Mexican food and ice cream. Remember all the weight I lost from the stress and depression of new mothering? Now that I am my happy self again, it's back! It never lets me down. I'd rather be happy?...I guess...
I started Pilates because my back and shoulders have excellent muscle memory and boot camp type work outs using weights started to bulk them back up.
Pilates is stretching and doing little, but deep, excruciatingly painful movements that work your core and build lean muscle (apparently). Basically it's exercises and stretching that I would never do on my own and trust me, I've tried. I've laid on a mat at the gym with all intention of doing just 2 minutes worth of concentrated abs and then after about 30 seconds, just laid there and listened to my music (with my eyes closed...YES! I am that a-hole taking up space not working out!).
All of my lean muscles are hidden by two inches of sweet, padded love, but trust me...there's a six-pack under there somewhere.
When we dissected the feral cats in high school anatomy (I did not know what the word feral meant then...I thought it was a breed) Lindsey and I picked the biggest one. We literally scooped through inches of yellow fat to get to the muscles and organs. We named her Brunhilda and it was awesome. I will donate my body to science so they can do the same..."oh wow, did not expect to see such large amounts of lean muscle under all of that!!!"
The women in Pilates are generally hilarious. The average age of the women I work out with there is mid-40ish and I learn all kinds of things, most recently about bladder prolapse.
Yes, that's where the muscles around the bladder become so weak, they can no longer hold your bladder in place, so it falls...falls right out.
I thought it was mostly common for older woman who had had children or (from my research) a history of frequent constipation, but a lady in class with us, who found her bladder hanging between her legs one morning, was not that old and her doctor said it was from running. I hear she has a nice, mesh hammock holding her bladder back in place. I also also hear that using the balls from 50 Shades of Grey help prevent loss of muscle tone up in there. (I've never read the book, but it was explained to me in detail, and I've been wondering ever since...)
Now, I hear a lot of stories in Pilates that I don't always believe, but it got me worrying and I thought about how much I have run (not marathons or anything, but a decent amount). I started to see commercials about suing hospitals over faulty installation of bladder mesh hammocks and even my doctor at my last appointment gave me a bladder survey which has never been done before.
I have bladder on the brain.
And like most busy moms, Yes. I've held it for a whole day before because there is no good time for a restroom break sometimes and you just forget! 8 PM rolls around and you can't figure out what you're so angry about and why you can't sit still...it's having to pee, friend! Then I wait a little longer because damn it! I just want to sit on the couch and read my US Weekly(s) (backed up from 4 weeks ago) in peace.
Every time I run now, all I picture is my bladder muscles slowly tearing away from their holding position. It used to be pretending to run with my celebrity crushes (I've taken many a long runs with Ryan Gosling...whatever gets you through, right?)
 |
| Answer: yes. |
Picturing my weakening bladder freaks me out.
I've resorted to power walking sometimes, but it makes me feel like a jack ass (because I look like I'm freaking training for Olympic speed walking) and I always sneak a few running steps in because really, I'd rather be running.
Like with all prolapse and most other health issues, the answer seems to be: eat more fiber.
So while I look for a comparable cardio replacement, I will eat more fiber...and run.*
*no fact-checking services were utilized before or after writing this and least of all, no medical expert was consulted.
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