BODIES.

Oh these bodies of ours. They can throw us for a loop so much can't they?

I'm sitting here with my giant jug of water that makes me look like a hamster when I drink it.

Hydrating because tomorrow is a really big race. St. Anthony's Olympic distance triathlon. One of my two really big races of the year (the other is the Augusta 1/2 Ironman in September.)

Right now it's 9 o'clock in the morning and we're supposed to be walking in the March of Dimes' March for Babies. I raised just over $700, just under my goal but still, our team as a whole raised about $6,000. (Thanks to all of you who donated directly and through Bondies for Babies! I love you!)

I wish I could see if our team won the family teams award like last year. My wagon is sitting in the front room all decorated because our theme was "NICU SURVIVOR." My son and I were going to wear camo.

It is the first time since my son was born that we didn't walk in this walk.

It feels weird and makes me want to cry.

My little one was up last night with a terrible fever and throwing up. I could have gone on the walk this morning with my older one, but I needed to take over the "next" shift after my husband pulled the all-nighter. Well I didn't need to, he could've handled it, but you know how it is. I got up and saw my husband sleeping on the floor in my little one's room and knew. I needed to be here.

My son got sick last night and I missed the walk today, but he slept in, we got up, I saw him eat again, I cleaned him up, sanitized his room, got everyone else fed and let my husband relax a little, instead of leaving at 6 a.m. to cram the 3 mile walk pulling a wagon into the day and worrying the whole way how he's doing and not enjoying that moment.

It's hard to let go of some of the things that are so important to me, like this walk.

But I'm trying a new approach to things and it's called (brilliantly), "letting go."

It's also called "cutting my losses," "living in the moment" or "come what may." But any way you put it, I'm trying to be at peace and guilt and sadness free with what happens and being one with my decisions.

It's not so easy though.

And it takes practice. I'm still practicing.

Now we're in sickness roulette, one of us may get it or NONE of us will get it! Who knows!? It's a wonderful game, isn't it!

And who knows, we might not race at all tomorrow.

But either way I'm ready for it.

And I'm hydrating with my giant water bottle.

Come what may, right? It's moment by moment up in here. I'm not anticipating anything and at the same time I'm anticipating everything.

So.

If no one is sick by 2 o'clock, I am picking up my race packet. If no one is sick by 8 o'clock tonight, I'm going to bed.

If no one is sick by 3 a.m., I'm waking up.

And if no one is sick by 7:30 a.m., I'M HEADED OFF INTO THE WATER in my orange swim cap. (ORANGE?! I WANTED PINK! But orange is my son's favorite color. That has always cracked me up and will definitely carry me through the swim. Even if I do look like fruit.)

Of course, I get almost everything that comes into this house so there is a good chance I may not be racing at all! However, the last time one of my sons pulled an all-nighter, no one else miraculously got it, so I'm clinging on to that. Strike that. Actually I'm just going to be one with whatever happens. Mkay? Now I'm just incessantly talking for the sake of hearing myself type.

For now, I hydrate.

If I go to bed tonight without any illness, I will post my traditional "Night before St. Anthony's" poem around bedtime and you'll know that I'm racing.

And tomorrow I will mobile post a picture from transition and you'll know I made it. (Of course I'll be tweeting from @christieo the whole time so you might know what's happening before then.)

But if it's Sunday and you're reading this, definitely one of us is hovered over the bowl, ok? So throw some "hope it passes quickly!" thoughts our way.

"Iron Baby": When Dads Have Preemies

So often we talk about the mommies when we talk about babies and pregancy and delivery.

And when a baby's born prematurely, we talk about how the mom feels; the feelings of guilt and failure that our body didn't do its job of carrying our baby safely to term, the feelings of sadness and guilt for a pregnancy ended too soon, the pangs we have when we see another hugely pregnant woman who made it further than we did, the fear of the safety of our baby lying in the NICU isolette. All.those.feelings.

And that's just barely scratching the surface. Not to mention the post traumatic stress of a traumatic pregnancy and delivery, dealing with the baby's surgeries, complications and beyond.

But usually there is a daddy standing by, drying our tears, trying to ease our pain and our worry and being our rock while we grieve and walk around like zombies day to day. I mean, someone's gotta keep it together, right? And usually it is them.

But when do they grieve?

Do daddies grieve?

A few months ago I read the story about the man behind "IronBaby."

I was following @ZenTriathlon on Twitter. He had really interesting podcasts that I'd download and listen to on my runs and one day I ventured over onto his site and stumbled upon "IronBaby."

It sounded like Ironman. But really it was IronBaby and I wanted to know more.

It turns out he's a triathlete. A daddy.

And a daddy of a preemie.

And that's how IronBaby was born.

At the time I found his story, my preemie mom's group, "Mommies Little Miracles," was in the middle of doing our NICU Baby Showers. Here we were supporting moms with babies in the local NICUs and it occurred to me that the dads sort of get left out in the cold. I realize that instinctively men and women grieve differently, but sometimes it's even worse because they're not even allowed to crumble. They're the ones that need to be strong while we crumble, right?


Wrong. Even tough guys like Brett have a hard time with prematurity.

 Brett Blankner, the founder of Zen and the Art of Triathlon, started out as a competitive swimmer, eventually getting into cycling, running and triathlon. Triathlon for him is a lifestyle with constant and ever-changing training that requires, above all things, balance.

Some of my favorite points of his Zentri Philosophy are:

"Tri training is not only for tri racing. The fitness gained improves your whole life, work, and family relationships."
"What you learn about yourself during the grueling training will change your life."
"You can easily train for triathlons during the time most people waste watching TV."

He has podcasts; he trains triathletes, he lives triathlon. I was so touched by Brett's story of IronBaby that I had to get the whole story from him, so I got a chance to catch up with him on the phone.

A few years ago, Brett was training for his first Ironman while his wife was pregnant and their baby was due in December.

He signed up for an Ironman that was in late October, but as the story of prematurity often goes, baby had other plans.

His son was born 2 1/2 months early.

Instead of standing at the starting line of his Ironman in October, Brett found himself at the starting line of a very different, very scary journey. "The dad can feel kind of powerless. As a dad you just kind of sit there; I wanted to do something," Brett told me.

And he didn't make it to the race. Instead he spent countless days and hours in the NICU at his son's side, all trained up and nowhere to go. "I felt really powerless and to get all trained for something and not do it, it drives you crazy," said Brett. So one day, he decided he'd take off on the 140.6 miles on his own.

He planned his route and he ran his own race.

Brett traveled the 140.6 miles through a pool, on bike and on foot, through the streets of College Station, Texas.

"There's no crowds to motivate you," Brett says on his website, "you have to totally support yourself, and quitting is very tempting when you keep passing your own house multiple times. I've done both and it actually feels harder."

The first time he did Ironbaby, it took him 17 hours.

Along the way, he mobile posted on his blog and was encouraged by his readers. "That was neat to see people responding as I was doing it," said Brett.

And it fueled him to do Ironbaby three more times, each time getting faster, each time getting better, each time with more support, virtually and in real life. And each time watching as his son grew older and was able to support him too. "Last year he leaned out the car and said, 'Why are you going so slow daddy?'” Brett laughed.

Through Ironbaby, Brett has raised thousands of dollars for the March of Dimes and the Ronald McDonald House, among some of the other charities.

Because like me, maybe you, and millions of other people, his family was blindsided by prematurity. "People have kids left and right, people just assume that’s what’s gonna happen until they run into a situation when it’s not," says Brett.

Even still, Brett remembers the sounds of the NICU so clearly. "I hear anything that sounds like it, it sends me into a flashback," says Brett, "Anything we can do to keep people from having to hear those beeps is worth it."

Brett raises money for the March of Dimes and the Ronald McDonald House, along with the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's, which his dad is currently fighting. (Maybe I'll even join Brett in his IronBaby race one year!)

I'm pretty sure that Brett wears a cape in this scenario, since we're all about capes up in here. But Brett says his little man is the real superhero. "He toughed it out and showed me what a real Ironman truly is," says Brett.

Today that tiny IronBaby is a super-healthy, amazing six-year-old.

*  * *

Thanks Brett, for sharing your story with me!
Find Brett Blankner at Zen and the Art of Triathlon (http://www.zentriathlon.com/) and on Twitter at @zentriathlon.

As you know, I am walking in the March for Babies this weekend. You can donate to the March of Dimes and help me reach my goal by clicking here. I'm also selling Bondi Bands with the proceeds going to the March of Dimes and for that, you can click HERE.

Bondis for Babies! Calling all Bondi Bands Lovers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My baby isn't so "baby" anymore.

He's turning 5 next month.

I love that he turns 5 in the same month that we walk every year in the March for Babies. His birthday is always a reminder for me of how precious he is, life is, and babies are. How prematurity can change everything and everyone.

I've written a lot about my son and his prematurity due to my preeclampsia. His early arrival (6 weeks) fueled my passion to support other mommies of premature babies. I'm now a part of a group called Mommies Little Miracles, which does just that.

This year I'm joining the Fight for Babies once again, by supporting the March of Dimes on their mission to fight to get every baby to get their 40 full weeks, to ensure healthy pregnancies for mommies everywhere, and supporting families traumatized by prematurity.

I'm raising money by selling my favorite thing in the world! BONDI BANDS!

Bondi Bands are one of my workout, running staples. They're light headbands that wick sweat away from your face, that actually help me shield the sun from my head in the middle of the day, and they say some of the coolest things in pretty much every color. I wear: SHUT UP AND RUN.

I also wear "You can and you WILL," "Tri," "Om Nom Nom" (with a picture of a shark on it) and "FOCUS."

I have all of those in my collection to sell and many, many more, take a look:

(you can click on the picture to make it larger. The "Triathlete" one says, "Failure is not an Option." Some of my favorites pictured are "Looks like walking, feels like running" and "Pain is inevitable, misery is optional." I have two of each message and I have two different colors of each.

I also have about 50 beautiful bedazzly ones (just some of them are pictured here):

I will keep taking pictures of these and posting them.

I am selling the Bondi Bands for a minimum of a $10 donation (that includes shipping.) I say "minimum" because if you give more, it all goes to the March of Dimes, so feel free to give as little or as much as you want!

All you have to do is email me about which one you want (christieo at averagemomswearcapes.com) and we can arrange the donation through paypal or snail mail, whichever is easiest for you.

Now, if you do not want to purchase a Bondi Band but you still want to donate, you can donate directly to my March of Dimes page!

No amount is too little and I'm headed toward a $1,000 goal, so will you help me get there???

The prematurity campaign is more than a cause to me, it's my passion.

I would give anything in the world to save another mommy and baby from the emotional devastation of prematurity and the physical devastation that prematurity can cause.

My baby made it through ok.

So did I.

But millions and millions of others won't and I have friends to testify to that, I watch their children as toddlers still fighting the effects of prematurity. It breaks my heart and I will forever champion for moms and babies, for as long as I live.

Please help me in the fight against prematurity!!

Bondis for Babies!!!