Working out like a postpartum mama
My chest tightens and my brain says a resounding ‘no’. Experience reminds me that if I just do something I will feel better. I try to find excuses, “there are too many hills,” “there’s only one way to run with the pram and I’m sick of it,” “the high altitude hurts,” “there’s no point running because I won’t maintain it enough to actually get fit.” But I tell myself to get dressed, borderline bullying myself into it. Baby first; ugg boots, warm jacket, brush teeth… then me, tights on, socks, runners… Even if I just walk.. C’mon Heidi.
We step out into the brisk, sunny morning and I immediately feel lighter. I throw Sierra into the pram, toothbrush in hand (she’s obsessed) and immediately she begins chatting happily. As I begin to walk, I turn on a good podcast; necessary.
My heart has been heavy spending so much time evaluating real Christianity vs fake; just as much in myself as those around me. Honestly it’s not even intentional in this season, it’s happening as naturally as Sierra growing up.
My feet beat down on the dusty road as I begin to stride, picking up my pace, letting my brain be emptied by the pulse of my feet on the ground. Thump thump thump. Thor runs alongside me, his big goofy ears dancing in the wind.
It’s not easy investing strength back into my body. It’s not easy saying ‘yes’ to intentional exercise and ‘no’ to excuses. It’s not easy letting myself come to a calm place where it’s okay not to achieve my goal entirely.
By the time we return home, I’m feeling stronger even amidst my fatigue. Sierra happily gets out of the pram and begins to wander so I decide to do a little workout on the driveway while she plays around me.
I’m not a workout girl. I have never allotted time to ‘working out’, aside from running, but that doesn’t count. It’s as much a therapy as it is exercise. My friends who are all about working out say the same about it. I’m trying to teach myself. I need to rebuild the strength my core lost when it nourished, grew and birthed my baby girl. It only feels loving.
I miss running 5 times a week on the flat lands, pushing my body to do better and go faster. I’ve had to change my whole approach to exercise since living at high altitude… Because let’s be honest, I am not a hill runner and prams and trails don’t mix.
I begin and quickly I start to feel good. My body breathes in the challenge and flourishes under the stress. Meanwhile, Sierra dances around me, looking at me strangely and telling me all about it in her own language. It’s not too long until she’s climbing all over me, wanting to be attached to me.
It’s hard to find time to yourself as a Mama, let alone time to work out if it’s not something you naturally gravitate towards. It’s hard for it to seem worthwhile and this comes from an active person before and during pregnancy.
The best thing I’ve done is to work out anyway and let my baby climb over me and drool in my face. I mean, she has a good time and I get something done too!
I know if I can do it, you can too!
We step out into the brisk, sunny morning and I immediately feel lighter. I throw Sierra into the pram, toothbrush in hand (she’s obsessed) and immediately she begins chatting happily. As I begin to walk, I turn on a good podcast; necessary.
My heart has been heavy spending so much time evaluating real Christianity vs fake; just as much in myself as those around me. Honestly it’s not even intentional in this season, it’s happening as naturally as Sierra growing up.
My feet beat down on the dusty road as I begin to stride, picking up my pace, letting my brain be emptied by the pulse of my feet on the ground. Thump thump thump. Thor runs alongside me, his big goofy ears dancing in the wind.
It’s not easy investing strength back into my body. It’s not easy saying ‘yes’ to intentional exercise and ‘no’ to excuses. It’s not easy letting myself come to a calm place where it’s okay not to achieve my goal entirely.
By the time we return home, I’m feeling stronger even amidst my fatigue. Sierra happily gets out of the pram and begins to wander so I decide to do a little workout on the driveway while she plays around me.
I’m not a workout girl. I have never allotted time to ‘working out’, aside from running, but that doesn’t count. It’s as much a therapy as it is exercise. My friends who are all about working out say the same about it. I’m trying to teach myself. I need to rebuild the strength my core lost when it nourished, grew and birthed my baby girl. It only feels loving.
I miss running 5 times a week on the flat lands, pushing my body to do better and go faster. I’ve had to change my whole approach to exercise since living at high altitude… Because let’s be honest, I am not a hill runner and prams and trails don’t mix.
I begin and quickly I start to feel good. My body breathes in the challenge and flourishes under the stress. Meanwhile, Sierra dances around me, looking at me strangely and telling me all about it in her own language. It’s not too long until she’s climbing all over me, wanting to be attached to me.
It’s hard to find time to yourself as a Mama, let alone time to work out if it’s not something you naturally gravitate towards. It’s hard for it to seem worthwhile and this comes from an active person before and during pregnancy.
The best thing I’ve done is to work out anyway and let my baby climb over me and drool in my face. I mean, she has a good time and I get something done too!
I know if I can do it, you can too!
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