We’ve been following Ashley Hinze as she runs through her second pregnancy. To catch up with her from the beginning, click here.

At 34 weeks, our PBAMR is stopping to smell the flowers with her firstborn.

I’m 34 weeks pregnant and am moving so slow that I have come to the conclusion that I am no longer running but, rather, walking.

At first, I was in denial. I was like nope, I am still running, I am allllllll good — but let’s get real. I was running so slowly that I was really just speed walking. BOB2 is growing fast and obviously in charge, already.

As sad as I am to say I am no longer running, I need to trust that little human. I have dug deep down into my gut and accepted this truth. I think. With this admission, I have started questioning if I still can classify myself as runner though — or, more specifically, a PBAMR (pregnant badass mother runner).

How can I still be a runner if I am not currently running? My heart breaks for my poor Sauconys every time I lace them up and the only real excitement they are going to get is stopping to pick up dog droppings. While I am sure entertaining for those watching from afar as I attempt to bend over and pick it up, it’s not the the excitement I (and my shoes) crave.

I know it needs to be different right now. I am growing a human. I am still moving — but am I still a runner?

A walk to the “sandbox,” which is what Reese calls it.

Heck yes, I am. I have come to the conclusion that just because I am not running right now, does not mean I am no longer a runner. Actually quite the opposite.

I am a runner. I am a badass mother runner. I am a PBAMR.

I may not be running but I am moving. Moving slow, but deliberately moving. I am learning to navigate exercise just like we moms learn to navigate day-to-day life with the humans we raise. Even with the best of intentions, our plans are bound to change when little humans are involved. We have all been there when that quick trip to the store becomes a 30 minute stand-off with a tantruming toddler. We all know how it feels to have your child dressed all nice for church and spill juice down their front. Life is bound to change — as are my plans for running.

My surface goal was to make it to 30 weeks running, which I did, but deep down I really wanted to run up until the day I gave birth. This just isn’t going to happen. Instead of plotting mileage, I am plotting time. Instead of plotting locations, I plot activities. It isn’t about the completion of the run but rather embracing what I can accomplish on the walk.

Soaking up her last snuggles as an only child

Reese and I plan our walks past parks or past our new house as it’s being built. We have time to take in the scenery and, more importantly I have time to enjoy the last moments before our family grows. Just me and my Reesie Roo. I will not weep (okay, maybe I will a little) that I will not be running on the day I give birth but you can bet I will still be deliberately moving.