PMS, Training and Your Period. EWWW!!!

***WARNING*** If you are a man, this post may make you extremely uncomfortable, squirm in your seat, and have a sudden urge to check into the Holiday Inn for a week.

The following is an actual exchange between me and the voice in my head (me):

[Sitting in the parking lot of the pool, car engine off]

"You really don't want to go in there."

"I know, but..."

"You're tired, and crampy, plus you already rode the bike this morning."

"But I drove all the way here."

"It doesn't matter. Just go to the mall. You can have lunch. You don't feel well."

"I'm getting out of the car."

"You could be at Panera in ten minutes"

"I'm getting out of the car." [Out loud] "GET OUT OF THE CAR!"

I don't know about you but I have these conversations quite frequently. Most often at 5:15am when I *really* don't want to get out of bed. But this one was targeting me right where I live, every month, with PMS.

I love being a girl. I wouldn't change that for the world. It's cool to be a chick. Our bodies are so special. We get to make babies, have all these extra sexy parts, and wear lipstick. When it comes to training, however, there is that monthly drawback - the dreaded period.

I've read articles and books about women and triathlon. They discuss training while on the Pill and the effects of low body fat and missed periods. Pretty good stuff. But no where did I read about the monthly effect PMS and your period can have on your training plan, or God forbid, race day. I mean who wants to swim, bike and run 70.3 miles with a tampon? Ewwww! Gross! (See guys, I told ya).

Even though I'm done having kids (thank you, Dr. A.) I still need the old uterus. It's a part of my body that I know contributes to making me feel pretty, a highly desireable state. I wear lipstick to work out and even race! The uterus is a marvelous organ of muscle, so skilled at cradling our babies for nine months, then working diligently to expel the little bundles from our bodies. It's disgusting. I mean beautiful! Yeah, that's it. I have a theory that if pregnant women in labor were treated like athletes, instead of sick people, they would feel less afraid and empowered. But that is a topic for another post.

Waking up slightly nauseous, with a lower backache and cramps is enough to derail the best laid training plan. You all know what I mean. And a bad mood? I get one. The claws and fangs come out. My loved ones know to hide from me, poor things.

Here's the good news. I thought about it and decided that even though I had all those symptoms I really WAS well enough to work out. I wasn't injured in any way. I was still as strong as the day before. My muscles were still fueled with the good protein, carbohydrates and fats I gave them. I was as ready as any other day to train. The monthly cycle changes my brain chemistry for a brief period, a cruel trick that tries to rob me of the desire to do what I love. I won't allow that to happen. Curling up with a hot water bottle might make me feel better temporarily, but it won't make me any stronger or faster for race day. I silence the voices with the promise that I'll pamper myself AFTER training, and then I get to work.