So. It’s been 7 weeks since Henry entered our lives and I’m pretty sure I’m kicking ass at this mother thing. Milk goes in, pee and poop come out. Seems simple enough to me. Motherhood rules, but I’m still not sure about that whole 9 months of pregnancy that has to go along with it.
I always thought I’d be one of those pregnant women that stayed super fit all the way to the end. As it turns out I’m inherently lazy. Without a race to train for, the motivation to sit on my bike trainer for more than 20mins was non existent. On top of that, the endurance athlete in me didn’t find a 20min work out worth getting dressed for. Vicious cycle. I did go to the gym and swim regularly, so I guess that’s something. I don’t think I looked super huge though. This was taken the day before I went into labour.
I wear 182lbs well huh? Yes. One hundred eighty two pounds. I’m sure at least 12lbs was water though. My feet and ankles looked like the Michelin man.
That whole giving birth thing is quite the experience. I can distinctly remember thinking that an Ironman would be a piece of cake after the big squeeze. Too bad Mother Nature does some sort of trickery where you don’t remember the pain all that clearly as quickly as a few days later. I guess that’s for the sake of all mankind; emphasis on the man.
A few days, 25lbs lighter and a squishy marshmallow belly later I started out on the quest to get back in shape. No big deal right? My fellow new mom and slight girl-crush Lauren Fleshman recently posted her 4 week post baby 6 pack to the envy of mothers and non-mothers alike. Although I might not be able to actually see the abdominals behind my extra ummm padding, I no longer have a gap the size of the Grand Canyon down my midsection. Progress.
My recovery regime has consisted of some running, some general fitness and some swimming. I really launched quickly back into running; 2k. Yep, I know you’re impressed. I only had to stop 7 times during it as well. Pretty good seeing as last year I could only run 42km all in one go. Super handy that if you have to pee at all at the start of a run you don’t by the end. It conveniently finds its way out of your baby without any effort from you. I wonder if peeing on the bike in a race will be easier now too.
I also go to stroller fitness. Yes, stroller fitness. A bunch of mommies get together with their babies and do all sorts of general fitnessy things like squats, lunges and pull-ups. I hate to brag, but I should mention that I won the game of British bulldog and I have the youngest baby by almost 3 months. Take that beeatches. Actually, I swear a 120km brick workout is easier than 2 mins of running up a set of stairs followed by crunches. All you people out there that workout just for the sake of working out are kinda nuts. I don’t see the motivation in it and usually completely obliterate the workout with a giant muffin afterwards.
Swimming is just weird without my buoyancy belt of a belly. Strangely, not having a baby riding up into your lungs makes it much easier to breath however. Yesterday, I managed 1000m and then took a 2 hour nap.
So the athlete trapped in the new mommy body is slowing cracking her way out. Everything I read tells you to get active and eat sensibly and the baby weight will come off. I hate eating sensibly. Guess I better think about signing up for a race or two if I expect to get at all fit by ski season.
Lookout, here comes Liz.