Napping is the key to salvation whether it be in the middle of a tough training block or 10 days in to two kids at home.  I’ve always excelled at napping and these days it’s a skill I don’t take for granted.  I napped at least 5 times per week for the last 10 months foregoing only on days my toddler wouldn’t allow it or I had to work (gasp!).  And it’s possible that the frequency and duration of these naps occupied the time I had previously spent writing things on this page.

Although I could have probably found a little time to write some snippets about my summer, I probably would have offended readers.  I don’t think it’s a big secret from my last post that pregnancy and I don’t get along and saying I was a tad grumpy is the understatement of the year.  I was more like a female House (from House, duh) as obviously I consider myself as intelligent as he.  Better I think myself a genius than ridiculously good looking right?

Over the summer, I attempted to keep moving which became harder and harder as the lbs came on and my top speed over land reached that of a giant tortoise.  I did manage to keep swimming and am proud to say my performance in the water was a little faster than a manatee which, as it turns out, is still faster than 85% of the human population of Kits pool.

I also bit off more than I could chew with taking a new job for the summer.  Instead of racing Ironmans, I worked them with the athlete services team up here in Canada.  It’ll be a whole other blog post to go into the detail of a behind-the-scenes look of working an Ironman, but let me just tell you that racing one is easier and takes far less time (for me anyways.)

So without going into the gory details, I’ll tell you that my new little man arrived at 4:04am on August 19th.  The parking ticket my husband purchased at the hospital is stamped 2:59am.  Labour was a total BQ qualifying time of 3.5hrs and there was screaming.  I distinctly remember thinking three things: “I would rather be running an Ironman marathon,” “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore,” and “men could never do this.”  Seriously, that’s what I was thinking.  When it was over I nuggled my second son Elliot.

So here I am a mom of two and figuring out the new normal.  I can’t wait to get back out “training,” but to the few people that have asked when I’ll be back on my bike, I’d like to tackle pooping without fear first.  It’s going to be a long slow slog back to fitness, but my mood has improved greatly.  I’m more my usual sarcastic self.  I’ll let you know how it goes as it goes, but for now it’s time for a nap.




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