By myself and Chaser

I had always been into fitness.  I ran half marathons all the time, and was really into the gym.  I never had the nerve to do a whole marathon, and it was always a goal of mine.  Being a New Yorker, the NYC marathon was the ultimate marathon for me.  I watched the race every year for more than 15 years, and every one of my family members ran it at least once.  I told myself that the year I turned 30, I was going to run the race. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on my side and I didn’t get into the marathon that year.  You see, every year about 100,000 people sign up for the race, and only about 30,000 get picked. I tried for the next 3 years to get in, and had no luck.  Now there was a loophole in the rules.  If you were a NYC resident, and applied for 3 or more years, you could petition to be in the race.  That’s what I did this year, and I finally got the letter saying I was in the race.

The race was in November, so I had to start training in June.  Nothing could stand in my way, or so I thought.  In May, I found out I was pregnant by a one night stand.  Even worse, I found out my due date was 3 weeks after the marathon.  I was kicking myself for doing this.  I was getting older and always wanted a baby, so that wasn’t a problem, but I really wanted to do the race. 

Deciding that nothing was going to stand in my way of completing the race, I researched marathon running pregnant.  Plenty of professional runners had continued to train while pregnant, and a few actually ran races while pregnant.  I couldn’t find anything on anyone running a marathon while they were so close to their due date. I figured if I didn’t push myself, I would be fine.

I always loved running, so the first part of training was a breeze.  The distances in my training plan weren’t long, and it was still so nice out that I could run with my shirt off.  By August, I was about 5 1/ 2 months along and running with my shirt off was getting to be a bit of a challenge.  My normally lean body had developed a baby bump.  Now, because of my training, it wasn’t very big, but It was still very noticeable.  At this point in the summer most of the guys who ran where I did had 6 packs from training all summer long.  I was the one running with a belly with my shirt off along with all of them.  No one really said anything; I'm sure most assumed it was just a beer belly, a pretty firm one, because there aren’t many pregnant guys running 13 miles at a time.

The rest of my training went really well. I was feeling good and feeling great about the race.  I was running a lot, and had shifted my focus from getting a great time, to just finishing.  I normally could have ran the marathon in about 3 ½ hours, but based on my training, I was looking at 5-6 hours.  I still ran most of the time, but due to the good amount of weight I was carrying, I had to walk a good portion of my training runs.  I had gained about 25 lbs at this time; that doesn’t sound like a lot, but running a marathon is hard, and running it with 25 extra pounds is really tough.

The day of the marathon came and I was ready.  I got up at 4am and started to get dressed.  None of my running close fit me well anymore, so I was forced to wear shorts that rode below my belly and a top that left about an inch of belly exposed.  I really didn’t care how I looked; I was more concerned with just finishing.   

I started the race pretty well, I was on track to get the race done in about 5 hours.  By mile 13, my body had other plans.  I started getting some terrible stomach cramps.  I figured it was just all the Gatorade I was drinking, along with the run.  I'd have to stop running every few minutes and slow my pace to a slow walk.  Also, my back was starting to ache, again this was to be expected by running pregnant.  Most pregnant people notice the back ach on a daily basis by just walking around; I had been running for almost 15 miles at this point.

By mile 20, I started to think that it wasn’t just the marathon that was making my body hurt so much.  My cramps were getting closer together, and very predictable.  Could I be in labor?  I weighed my options.  I had trained for months to get to this point and had run 20 miles. My contractions were about 30 minutes apart at this point, and from what I could remember, that meant about 4 hours before I could be delivering. Im sure I could finish the face in an hour and a half, so I decided to keep going. 

I tried to keep myself focused on the finish line.  As I would feel the tightening starting in my back, I slowed my pace down to a walk.  The contractions were getting strong enough now that sometimes I had to stop and brace my hands on my knees and ride it out.  I tried not to do this very often because one of the medical staff on duty would come up to me and ask how I was doing.  I didn’t want them to pull me from the race, so I acted like I was just an overweight guy who was having trouble on the run.

The last mile is always the worst; that’s what marathoners tell you.  I can tell you its even worse when you are in the throes of labor.  My contractions were about 10 minutes apart at this point, and running wasn’t an option.  I could hear the cheers from the finish line, and was determined to get there.  I ended up walking the rest of the way, and was about 50 feet away when the worst thing happened.  My water broke.  Luckily no one noticed, I was drenched in sweat already. 

I made it to the finish line and collapsed.

A paramedic came up to me, and told me to get up and walk it off so I didn’t cramp up.  I grabbed his shirt and told him I was pregnant and in labor. He didn’t really believe me, Im sure he thought I was just delirious from the race, but I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my contracting belly.  His eyes got bigger, and he called for a stretcher.  The medics got me on the stretcher and took down my shorts.  I saw the shock on their eyes when the looked down. I was crowning!

I was instructed to not push. They moved me to a medical tent off to the side of the finish line. I couldn’t believe it, I had just run a marathon, and now I was supposed to muster the strength to push a baby out? 

I was laying on the stretcher, legs spread wide as a small group of paramedics looked on. The paramedic that was taking care of me told me to start pushing. I grabbed at my knees which were wet with sweat and began to bare down. I could see my belly contracting in all sorts of ways as the contractions got stronger.  The pain in my back was terrible. On top of the contrcactions, I also felt the pain of running the marathon.

 I spent 5 minutes pushing before the baby literally popped out with one big push. I was lucky that because of my physical activity level, the baby wasnt very big, and pushing wasnt as terrible as it could have been. The parademic layed the baby on top of me, covering it with a white towel. I closed my eyes for a minute, taking everything in: I completed a 20-mile marathon, and gave birth soon after. I didn't win the race, but I was definitely a winner that day.