Nothing to wear

I am lucky enough, thanks to running mainly, to have now, at 38, more of a teenager body than when I was a teenager (how's that for a catch line which may have me hated from half of the female population... although, if I am lucky maybe not half of the one reading running blogs since a lot of them will be in the same situation).

I also don't seem to be able to throw much away (everything I did throw away, on account of the fact I had not worn them for years and they had gone out of fashion 10 years earlier, were, of course, the thing to wear less than a month after they had been given to charity).

And, last but not least, I used to be a real girl when it came to clothes (that was before I started to think my money was better spent on sport kit, before I had a kid, and before I had no money to waste). 

Having nothing to wear was therefore, in all honesty, never a real problem (although on occasion I may still vehemently argue right the opposite, especially when late to get ready for a night out with Martin).

Until now.

Now that I am 33 weeks pregnant.

I am not talking about everyday clothes. Right now, I have two pairs of pregnancy jeans, a pair of leggings and a skirt which I bought at H&M when pregnant with Malo, cost 9.99€, is not even from their pregnancy line and is just fine. I am still wearing my "non-pregnant" sweaters, which have become very figure-hugging to say the least but still do the job (although I may come to regret having done this when I am back to my normal self and I realise that the said sweaters have lost their shape to the point of only being good at mopping the floor).  All this is more than enough for taking Malo to daycare, buying groceries and working from home.

No, what I am talking about here is sports clothes. There it looks like I have reached the point of no-return.

When pregnant with Malo, finding a sports outfit which would allow me to stay comfy and decent up to day 266 of pregnancy (turned out I "only" had to deal with 262, but that's another topic) was reasonably easy. (As an aside, I did not get my math wrong : just remember those of us lucky enough to be pregnant in France have to deal with not 40, but 41 weeks of pregnancy... doesn't it make heroes of us?). As I reached whale-stage in the heat of summer, I stole some of Martin's cycling lycras in which to fit my ever-expanding belly for spinning. And, when it came to hiking, running and swimming, I only needed a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a pregnancy swimsuit, just like those : 

Me in sports attire, 3 days before Malo was born and setting off for some "white water rafting" (!)

This time round, I am not only reaching third trimestre in the midst of winter, but, am I being unlucky, in the midst of the coldest winter Europe has experienced in decades. And my belly is 5cms bigger as it used to be at the same stage of being pregnant with Malo (and yes again, I do keep stats).

Thinking about the positives (second time in the space of two posts... I should make sure this is not becoming a habit), that spares regrets for having splashed out on my only proper pregnancy sports clothes investment, a pair of pregnancy fleece running tights. (On another side note, would you believe those had to be ordered from the US, since it is just impossible to find proper pregnancy running clothes in Europe. And it does not even mean there is a market here to explore, since there are no pregnant runners around. Shame). These running tights may be the most unflattering piece of sports gear I have ever owned (which obviously mean I would not dream of posting a photo even if I was paid for it), they're still saving my life right now.

Apart from these running tights, I could, until now, manage with "normal" clothes. Shoes and socks are not an issue. Technical first layers and fleece were getting a bit of the short side, but the ugly pregnancy running tights getting over my belly made up for it. I was thankful for the stretch fabric on each side of my fleece vest, which meant I could still zip it up. And for the first time, I was happy Mizuno's size XS is so ridiculously large, since it meant I could also still wear and zip my rain jacket.

This week has, however, sadly marked a milestone, which will be remembered as the "I have officially nothing to wear anymore" week. Following last Sunday's run and related "getting dressed" attempts, I had to bent my principle of not buying anything pregnancy related with only two months to go, and hit Decathlon, where, at least, I was able to get a fleece and a fleece vest for a price not too close to daylight robbery. And when, today, I managed to find 45 min for a run some time outside, it became obvious, as I was getting ready, that this was probably the last time the XS rain jacket would be used until back to non-pregnant status. I am therefore now faced with only two options : 1. steal Martin's (that's going to become a common theme here) rain jacket, which, being bright red, will make me look even more like Santa than a few weeks ago. Or 2. freeze to dead. I guess I'll settle for # 1., eventually.

Snow shoeing attire is also going to be an issue. Again, those fleece pants will no doubt save my life, or at least my legs, but what about the rest of my very pregnant body? My - very warm - down jacket still fits (how long for?) but, as I am carrying my own portable central heating 24/7 these days, is far too warm for steep (or not so steep) uphill snow shoeing. And my only alternative will no doubt burst at the seams anytime soon. And no, I won't borrow Martin's, since snow shoeing with a jacket the length of my regular coats is not an option.

Definitely reaching a dead end here. 

As for the buff I have been wearing over the past few weeks as a comfy way to hold my belly, and which Malo calls my "zupe", my skirt, it will soon be a skirt... 

... for Malo only...