Back in the saddle again

I always found it strange when people would tell me that running was their "passion" and I'd look at them waiting for the joke. These are probably the same people who star in the yogurt commercials that compare lactobacillis to PIE AND CAKE. Running does nothing for me except make me want to die or scream or kill people.

I started spinning in 2005 after my then-boss began teaching at a local studio and invited me to her class. I remember being so intimidated at first - I could barely stand up on the bike let alone jump- but something about it just hooked me. The music is awesome, its fast paced and challenging. I bought a heart rate monitor and learned to track (and control) my level of exertion by my bpm. I became stronger and more savvy with my cycling and in July of 2007 when my instructor went on maternity leave she recommended me to teach her class. And I did.

Cycling frees my mind. It makes me feel strong and connected to my body - gives me a high that lasts for nearly an hour afterwards. No matter what kind of day I had when I climbed on the bike - that time was just for me and all of my stress would dissipate amongst gushes endorphins and boob sweat. I was so happy when my growing fetus (now known as Owen) tolerated the workouts. I liked that I was keeping fit and strong and showing people that pregnant women CAN workout. I taught cycling until my 25th week of pregnancy when it began to be uncomfortable getting on and off the bike and I couldn't make it through an hour-long class without having to duck out to pee (and sometimes forgetting to turn off my mic in the process...oops!)

I was put on bed rest two weeks later. I in no way think these things were related and if I had it to do over would not change a single thing. Bed rest took its toll on my body in a matter of days. My goal at the beginning of my pregnancy was to remain strong and fit so that I would be in optimal shape to recover from birth and care for my newborn. Preterm labor changed that goal to delivering a healthy baby at any cost to my body.

I delivered a healthy baby, but could barely stand through a five minute shower. I couldn't even walk around the block until eight weeks postpartum. It has taken me a long time to build up the strength and confidence to get back in the cycling room. I was faced again with the same intimidation that I had before my very first class but lately I started to yearn for that release. I wanted to let my mind go and feel strong again. I needed to find a way to make that happen.

Last Friday night during a casual conversation with a friend he mentioned he started spinning again. I told him I used to teach and he insisted I come to class while his wife watched Owen.

I went and the weirdest thing happened to me. First off, I didn't die. I actually kept up quite well. Wearing my 20lb son around town must have somewhat conditioned my legs. But for almost ten full minutes during that class I forgot I was a mother. It was amazingly freeing. I was transported back to the person I was a year ago. My mind was clear and my body felt strong. Until my milk-filled fun bags started aching with every painful bounce and I remembered my sweet son who was waiting for me.

Almost 11 months to the day and I am so happy to be back and to have this outlet, this passion. You won't catch me running anywhere anytime soon or choosing yogurt over cake for dessert - but I am proud and happy that I made that step. It was a little piece of me that I needed to get back and in doing so it makes me a better wife and mother.