Old Things

It’s nice to be somewhat back to “normal”. As usual, “normal” is a relative term. After all, life is all about changes. So, when is anything “normal”? As a reference point right now, I am speaking of my exercise program.

I continued to exercise throughout my pregnancy. In fact, I did my regular daily pilates the morning Emry was born. Of course, my exercise regime of running, and jumping rope, and yoga, and pilates, and interval cardio training at least five days a week changed up quite a bit while I was pregnant. I knew jumping rope was probably not wise. I ran until January and only stopped then because I was afraid of slipping on icy sidewalks and taking a fall. Yoga and pilates continued mostly unchanged (although reaching my toes was impossible) and my interval cardio was much lighter.  So, as a whole, I didn’t find pregnancy hard on exercising. Then I gave birth…

For me, post partum recovery was the worse thing I have ever recovered from. It’s not like a pulled muscle, or strained Achilles tendon, or shin splits. Those I can run, jump and play on anyhow – I just ice them afterwards. But giving birth has taken a toll on my body I never imagined. Walking was about all I accomplished for 7 weeks…because if I tried to add something (a slight run, a bit of yoga), I just went into relapse. I was starting to wonder if I would ever recover when I suddenly felt okay again. Mostly.

My body is still working itself back to “normal”, which I may need to redefine. Seven weeks of almost nothing did no favors to the strength and abilities I took for granted. Not being very flexible to start with, I’m just now reaching my toes again. I am working my way back up to a 4-mile run, which will come soon enough but not at 10 minutes a mile for a while. I got back to jumping rope just this week. The yoga and pilates are working to build my muscles back into place. I feel a bit sore, yes, but I also feel better than I have since giving birth. It is so nice to be heading back to “normal”.

Meanwhile, Emry enjoys our daily exercise sessions. She usually falls asleep in her stroller as we cruise along Pittsburgh’s bumpy roads and sidewalks. She stretches, and kicks, and babbles as I move from downward-facing-dog up to my warrior poses. And she sits in her little chair and watches as I jump rope. No doubt, she will join me more and more as the months go by. After all, she ran and stretched with me in the womb. Now we’ll just continue the habit.