Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Blink And Four Months Fly By
It wasn't until a friend emailed to let me know he read my last blog post that I realized I hadn't written since January. Soren is now 6 months old and entertaining us full time with his "Talking," giggling, and playful antics. I'm also now a full-fledged working mom. Working at Station 19 has been challenging to say the least. Currently it's the second busiest Engine Company in the city. We are up most nights and very busy during the day as well. This makes for very little sleep at home and work. Soren's budding personality definitely keeps me going even when I'm exhausted.
His new favorite pass times are: chewing on kitchen utensils, riding Chester's shoulders while eating Chester's hair, napping ON Dad on weekends, opening mouth so Emma can get kisses as close to inside of mouth as possible, doing the Hokie Pokie while naked in front of bathroom mirror.
Challenges: Sleep. He's going to bed between 7-8pm. He occasionally sleeps 7-8 hours, but usually it's more 6-7. Sounds great...but that still puts us at 2-3 am. I know it could be worse.
Eating: he's not having any issues...loves everything. I'm still nursing (pumping at work) and supplementing with solids and formula....it's Chester and I that are struggling with losing the baby weight. We will eat really well for a few days, then lose the motivation for cooking and fall off the healthy wagon. Throw the lack of sleep in and motivation for exercise dwindles while sugar cravings go through the roof. No one said it would be easy. We just keep trying. I'm getting a bit nervous. I have six months before I need to suit up in December. My loose black stretch pants and sweatshirt are not going to cut it in Brazil...unless there is a freak cold snap. I need to shed the remaining 20 pounds and gain some muscle!!!
Still going to Theraputic Associates PT Jessica Dorrington to strengthen pelvic floor and gain some range of motion in low back and hips. I'm hoping she will clear me for low impact crossfit starting next week. My Diastasis (Separation of the Abdominal wall) is now down to 1 and a half to 2 fingers. It started at a four...so progress has definitely occurred.
I think my friend Julie was right on when she said it would take about 1 year to get back to my old self. And, let's be honest, that will most likely be my "New" old self. My whole pelvis now tips forward and I seem to have hips, where I didn't before. So it will be interesting to see if those pelvic bones return and the forward position returns to more of a neutral position. For now, I'm just hoping for steady progress in the fitness and strength realm.
Next on the agenda...continuing my running...hopefully gaining some speed. (Traveling at a brisk 11:00 minute mile currently)
Beginning Crossfit...All over again
Training with my returning friend Dana with TRX. (will explain later...after I learn what this means. :)
Sleep, eat right, continue to watch Soren grow. :)
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Mamalates
No, this is not a group of Moms drinking lattes. Who's got an extra hand to hold a coffee drink??? After doing some research about diastasis (the abdominal separation) a friend suggested Mamalates. This class is basically a Pilate's class for new mothers, and...their babies. The "And their babies," portion is key. I would love to get a massage, go to the chiropractor, get acupuncture, go swimming, go to yoga, all the things I used to do for self care. My body is tied in knots, all the old ones from training, plus new ones from sitting hunched over while nursing and compensating for having zero core strength. But I can't bring Soren so I don't bother making the appointments. Don't get me wrong, I am not suffering from separation anxiety with my child, not yet anyway...we will re-visit this topic when I return to work, but there really is no easy way of bringing a baby to any of those arenas. If he sleeps...sure, great! But he most likely won't.
With the Mamalates class we bring our babies, crying or sleeping into the room. We squeeze into the small space on mats surrounded by balls, bands, and in between car seats. Some babies sleep, some lay on a blanket, some are carried by the instructor as she teaches - those are the lucky moms that get to participate in the movement for the whole class! Yesterday, during our second class, Soren was the first to start crying, "Yes!" which meant Wendy, the instructor, would carry and calm him bouncing on the ball as she taught. When he calmed she placed him back in his carrier. This didn't last so I took him out again and laid him on the floor next to a six week old little girl named, Ophelia. He was fascinated and I participated for another 10 minutes! While he cried, or nursed, I looked around the room. This is the last place I would have ever imagined myself. There were Moms and babies everywhere. All ages, sizes, and iterations of mother and child. It's so interesting to observe the bond between them and the manner of touch and expression that has already become their routine. It occurred to me that this was the important part of class. During the first class I attended, there were very few babies present. None of them were awake, except for Soren, so the instructor held him for the entire class. I was relieved and worked really hard engaging my core and moving those bands. I was killing it in that class. Yes folks (all two of you that read this, plus my Mom) "Killing it," now means six knee push-ups before I fall to the ground sweating. It's all relative.
Anyway, returning to my point. Yesterday, as I noticed the room begin to brim with babies I felt a stab of anxiety. Some of these other babies are bound to cry. Soren was awake. So it was just a matter of time before he started expressing his displeasure. Connecting the dots here...I'm not going to get my workout in today!! But while I nursed him for the second time in an hour and fifteen minute period that's when I noticed it. The reason I came to this class is not the only reason to be here. I looked down at Soren. He has this adorable habit of moving his little fingers as though he's directing the feeding session. His eyes, if open, look so dreamy and relaxed. It literally causes me to take a deep breath and wonder how I got so lucky. I am constantly amazed that someone as impatient, wound, and with the sometimes anxiety-ridden shark-like attitude of Move or die, can create such calm in a little person like Soren. It gives me hope.
So. I will pack up the little guy every week, sometimes twice a week, into his carrier. I will drive to the other side of town. I will endure his crying, screaming days and be thankful for his sleepy or happy days as I kill another workout. Because no matter what, I will be surrounded by women learning similar lessons about themselves. And the smiles we give each other across the room are more validating than any doctor, nurse, partner, Mom, or friend could match. We are all in it together for one hour and fifteen minutes. And that is worth so much more than the small amount of money I pay to attend that class.
I may get to do 7 knee push-ups and 10 air squats holding Soren. Or, I may nurse, hold, and bounce Soren for the entire class. Either way I'm killing it.
With the Mamalates class we bring our babies, crying or sleeping into the room. We squeeze into the small space on mats surrounded by balls, bands, and in between car seats. Some babies sleep, some lay on a blanket, some are carried by the instructor as she teaches - those are the lucky moms that get to participate in the movement for the whole class! Yesterday, during our second class, Soren was the first to start crying, "Yes!" which meant Wendy, the instructor, would carry and calm him bouncing on the ball as she taught. When he calmed she placed him back in his carrier. This didn't last so I took him out again and laid him on the floor next to a six week old little girl named, Ophelia. He was fascinated and I participated for another 10 minutes! While he cried, or nursed, I looked around the room. This is the last place I would have ever imagined myself. There were Moms and babies everywhere. All ages, sizes, and iterations of mother and child. It's so interesting to observe the bond between them and the manner of touch and expression that has already become their routine. It occurred to me that this was the important part of class. During the first class I attended, there were very few babies present. None of them were awake, except for Soren, so the instructor held him for the entire class. I was relieved and worked really hard engaging my core and moving those bands. I was killing it in that class. Yes folks (all two of you that read this, plus my Mom) "Killing it," now means six knee push-ups before I fall to the ground sweating. It's all relative.
Anyway, returning to my point. Yesterday, as I noticed the room begin to brim with babies I felt a stab of anxiety. Some of these other babies are bound to cry. Soren was awake. So it was just a matter of time before he started expressing his displeasure. Connecting the dots here...I'm not going to get my workout in today!! But while I nursed him for the second time in an hour and fifteen minute period that's when I noticed it. The reason I came to this class is not the only reason to be here. I looked down at Soren. He has this adorable habit of moving his little fingers as though he's directing the feeding session. His eyes, if open, look so dreamy and relaxed. It literally causes me to take a deep breath and wonder how I got so lucky. I am constantly amazed that someone as impatient, wound, and with the sometimes anxiety-ridden shark-like attitude of Move or die, can create such calm in a little person like Soren. It gives me hope.
So. I will pack up the little guy every week, sometimes twice a week, into his carrier. I will drive to the other side of town. I will endure his crying, screaming days and be thankful for his sleepy or happy days as I kill another workout. Because no matter what, I will be surrounded by women learning similar lessons about themselves. And the smiles we give each other across the room are more validating than any doctor, nurse, partner, Mom, or friend could match. We are all in it together for one hour and fifteen minutes. And that is worth so much more than the small amount of money I pay to attend that class.
I may get to do 7 knee push-ups and 10 air squats holding Soren. Or, I may nurse, hold, and bounce Soren for the entire class. Either way I'm killing it.
Friday, January 6, 2012
While Soren Sleeps
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Since Mor Mor is going to be away all day hiking with Uncle Alan, I've decided to give the Moby Wrap another shot. Soren loved this when my friend Kelley helped me wrap the giant scarf around my body in a useful sling configuration. But he soon tired of being stuffed like a pea pod into the scarf. After looking online I found another method we will try today allowing his feet to hang while still close and supported.
In other news: I tried on my work pants. They are the pants I got just before I got pregnant. They hung around my hips comfortably back in January. I'm happy to say I was able to zip and snap the Ben Davis pants. I'm a little worried to admit that they look like the worst case of "Mom Pants" I have ever witnessed. What happened to my butt? What in the world does my butt have to do with having a baby? All I can think is that our bodies are all tied together in a confusing weave of muscles and ligaments (kind of like the Moby wrap but with live tissue) and somewhere along the line I lost tone everywhere. I only say this to express how bad the Mom Pant look is. Not only because the pants no longer hang at my hips in a casual cool manner; but as they pass the hips to the higher ground of my "waist" (really non-existent...but area where waist used to be) and squeeze together to snap, I now fill the Pants like a "Mom." My butt is flat and long...really no distinguishable end of butt and beginning of back. The high pants accentuate this fact. The front is no better. As the pants ride up in back they are poofing out in front where tummys should lay flat. In short, I am poofing where I should be flat and flat where I should be poofing.
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I am taking all of this in stride, despite what Chester and my Mom may say. Yes, I am anxious to fix this situation. But I'm also using it to be thankful for how fit I WAS and as inspiration to get back to that fitness. I also understand that there are no guarantees. My body is not the same as it was. It will no doubt not be like it was after the weight is worked off slowly. But I am confident it can be different but better, or at least different but just as good in a different way. Basically, I'm just sporting a new style. :)
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Patience.
I've been hearing that word offered often these days. My latest question to receive that answer is about my stomach. How long before my abdominal wall feels like a wall again instead of curtains open wide? What can I do to strengthen and repair them?
Waiting. I've never been good at it. But to me there is a difference between having patience and being idle. I will be patient with the process, but I want to help my body move in the right direction. I guess this statement falls under another phrase typically advised, "Allow everything to fall back into place on it's own." In other words, "You can't MAKE this happen." Hmphf. I remember hearing that when Chester and I were trying to get pregnant. I guess I'm still learning that one.
I know this facet of my personality causes no end of frustration and irritation to those who work with me, know me, and even those who love me. For many not close to me it is the reason for their disliking me. But I like this about my personality. I know it could be tempered and softened...and I think it has with age, yes, believe it or not. It comes from a value and belief so strong and at the core of who I strive to be. Namely, I do not ever want to stop and "Wait" or "Let" life pass by me. I'll admit there is a magic to allowing things to fall into place and happen seemingly on their own. But I'm a firm believer that something never happens "On its own." I believe things change, happen, move, evolve only by laying the groundwork, taking opportunities to learn about processes, and taking action. I know what you're thinking. She's a control freak. Well, yes, I've been called that too. In a black and white world I suppose you choose to be victim to those things you don't like or fear; or we try to control them. I choose the latter. I admit the world we live in is not black and white and there is a fine line between when we should push and when we should relax. Water is stronger than stone.
Soren is waking up and will want to be fed. He will not have to wait or be patient...lucky boy. Hmm...maybe it's not patience I seek, but maturity. Ouch.
Waiting. I've never been good at it. But to me there is a difference between having patience and being idle. I will be patient with the process, but I want to help my body move in the right direction. I guess this statement falls under another phrase typically advised, "Allow everything to fall back into place on it's own." In other words, "You can't MAKE this happen." Hmphf. I remember hearing that when Chester and I were trying to get pregnant. I guess I'm still learning that one.
I know this facet of my personality causes no end of frustration and irritation to those who work with me, know me, and even those who love me. For many not close to me it is the reason for their disliking me. But I like this about my personality. I know it could be tempered and softened...and I think it has with age, yes, believe it or not. It comes from a value and belief so strong and at the core of who I strive to be. Namely, I do not ever want to stop and "Wait" or "Let" life pass by me. I'll admit there is a magic to allowing things to fall into place and happen seemingly on their own. But I'm a firm believer that something never happens "On its own." I believe things change, happen, move, evolve only by laying the groundwork, taking opportunities to learn about processes, and taking action. I know what you're thinking. She's a control freak. Well, yes, I've been called that too. In a black and white world I suppose you choose to be victim to those things you don't like or fear; or we try to control them. I choose the latter. I admit the world we live in is not black and white and there is a fine line between when we should push and when we should relax. Water is stronger than stone.
Soren is waking up and will want to be fed. He will not have to wait or be patient...lucky boy. Hmm...maybe it's not patience I seek, but maturity. Ouch.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
January 1, 2012
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First day of the new year. I just finished pumping and have to retrieve the little Munch from my mom, his Mor Mor. But, I've decided to blog my way back to sanity. So I wanted to get letter to page before the crazy day commences. Hell or high water we are going to Crossfit today with 7 Week old Soren in tow. We've tried the past two days to no avail. Today is a new dawn.
If I don't get going we won't make it. I need to: Wake husband (Chester), eat breakfast, pack diaper bag, pack food for after workout, change for workout, pack baby into carrier and be on our way in 40 minutes. Life has become a blur with the "List" never realized. The Challenge: Slow down and enjoy: the smiles in Soren's sleep, the sounds of joy when he stares at the mobile, the sheer thankfulness of having my Mom here to share in his life and care, watching him grow, learning patience and "Letting go," the list goes on and on. Hopefully, this blog will help me live in these moments instead of the in the list of laundry, vacuuming, dirty dishes, dog piles in the yard, lack of sleep and other chores.
More to come...
Saturday, February 27, 2010
The best part.
I didn't train for 24 hours of solo riding in Old Pueblo. When Chester signed up, I thought about sitting on the sidelines for another race and couldn't fathom going "just" in support. After the first frigid, rainy, three hour ride topped off with the rude spraying of the hose to remove the inch of mud covering our bodies before we made our way into the house...but only AFTER we hosed our bikes and shoes off as well, I knew my heart wasn't into this day in and day out for three months. Chester's heart was. While I played at crossfit, running, riding on weekends (when I felt like it) and walking the dogs...he came home from work, sat on the couch for 30 minutes, then made his way out to the packed garage (we still haven't organized from moving in September.) There was just enough room for my bike trainer and his road bike. In layers of sweatpants, sweatshirt and hat he did interval drills and all out threshold tests for 60-90 minutes a night. On weekends he put in three to four hours saturday and 6-9 hours on Sunday. Although I whined now and then about missing time with him, after we established "date night" things got better. I still struggled now and then feeling like I was doing more than my share of household stuff...but I also knew what it was like to totally commit to a training program and go for it 100%. I was excited for him and watched his fitness continue to rise to a level I'd not seen in him previously. Incidentally he never, not one day, told me he was too tired to talk or walk the girls with me, or make dinner with me. I am still amazed and grateful for his ability to always be there for me, regardless of his fatigue. In my days of triathlon I was not able to give so much...lesson learned. ;)
So, when we arrived, after the initial scuffle for command over the sleeping tent and logistics tent locations we set to riding the course. Chris and I rode what we believed would be a small loop, thinking we would ride the whole course with Chester later. Well our small loop turned out to be 3/4 of the course. Interestingly we felt like we'd been riding forever and had, at the time we checked our odometers, only covered 6 miles of the 17 mile course. Not what you want to experience the day before the race. But we smiled and rode on...we were in it for fun- six laps at least. We picked Chester up and did it again...a little more quickly.
RACE DAY: Brian, Brent, Jenna, Audrey, Isaac, and Andrew...oh and Bella were all there to help support the three of us in this adventure. Throughout the night they cooked soup, heated water to fill camelbacks, delivered requested food, changed batteries for lights and cheered as we rode off to do another lap. They also had an eye on the other competitors and would update Chester and I as we came in about our placement as well as telling us how our other racers were fairing. They were amazing. There would be no race without a support crew. There are so many logistics to think of at every stop. And even I, not having raced the whole night through, was getting tired and less apt to remember batteries or a water switch. I know Chester could not have done what he did without them.
I mentioned previously my goal was to ride 6 laps. Having never ridden more then three hours or about 35 miles on my mountain bike, I thought 100 miles was a great goal...especially with little to ah-hem, no training. I rode for 10:30 hours getting six laps. The last lap was dark, and I was feeling the strain on my back. I also, looking back, was feeling the effects of not enough calories per hour. I just didn't have the practice fueling on my bike. It's more difficult than fueling while I run. In that 10:30 hours I burned about 7500 calories. I was getting about 200/ hour...if lucky. The sixth lap started feeling miserable. It felt like a good time to sit and re-group.
When I came in and announced my plans to sit a spell, Brent announced that I was in fifth place. "Really?!" I looked at my bike. I looked at the campfire and remembered why I came. I came to have fun. I did not train for this. But I could go for it and chase my ego around that 17 mile loop for as long as my body would allow. Hmm...I chose the chair. I now had a front row seat as I watched Chester come in every 1:30-1:45 and helped get him what he needed to continue racing. I listened as Brent told him he was 13th, then top ten, then fifth, then fourth place! I finally tried to get some sleep at 4am. I fell asleep at 6am and at 7am Brent woke me up to get back out on the trail. I loaded my camelback with clif shots and set off for the unknown. Apparently my get up and go had really got up and went. I struggled with each stroke getting nowhere. 10 miles into the lap I realized I was in my granny gear! No wonder I wasn't going anywhere. I finally shifted to the middle ring and made some time. I traveled well until the steady uphill of the His and Hers trail. I was dragging. I happily decided to make this my farewell lap. With 7 laps I would complete 118 miles on my bike. That's more than double the distance I've previously ridden. My smile came back and I started chatting with others on the trail. It was sunny and beautiful and everyone seemed to be ecstatic that the endless darkness had disappeared bringing sun and renewed energy...well some of the riders seemed to have the renewed energy. I was happy for them as I considered shifting back to my granny gear for the flats.
When I came in Brent told me that the other women seemed to be resting as well...I could keep going and possibly regain some ranking. I smiled. The choice was easy this time. It was cool to get the report and felt really good to know definitively I'd done what I'd set out to do, was finished, and most importantly smiling. I packed it up and waited for Chester to come around a few more times before I put my jeans on and "officially" crossed the finish line. When people see the solo plate they go crazy at the finish. I felt a little sheepish knowing I didn't ride all night. But I also felt good about what I'd accomplished over the weekend. I'm excited about this new yearly tradition in my life and look forward to next year.
Chester finished almost 90 minutes ahead of the next solo male finisher. Chester stood on the podium in fourth place in his Carharts, down jacket and Arizona cap in 75 degree weather. He then downed a pulled pork sandwich and a coke. When we made our way back to camp to pack our bikes for the next destination I turned to ask him a question. He was passed out on the desert floor sleeping with a big smile on his face.
Next stop British Virgin Islands for some sailing. We rested, tanned, swam, ran (at least two days) and ate seafood while hanging with three fun couples. It was a perfect end to the race week. Ok, I'll admit I started going a little crazy for activity...but the trip was an adventure of a lifetime and being surrounded by bright blue water and sun for a week was great. But the best part of the two weeks, was spending uninterrupted time with Chester. AFter two weeks we were both pleased to realize that it was date night when we got home and were excited to spend it together. :)
Thanks also to George and Cass for allowing us to send our bikes to QCS so we wouldn't have to lug them onto the sailboat!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Big Week
Yes, blogging went to the wayside in the past months. To sum up: Chester has been training so hard his bike has been ridden into the ground. He needs to replace: his shocks, rotors- front and back, brake pads and extract the water from his front fork. Riding in forest park for hours in the rain back to back days every weekend apparently takes it's toll. Rather than go into a full description of what I did or did not do to train...suffice to say my new Superfly, has some mud on the frame, but would still pass as a "New" bike. So with that going for each of us we are off, Wednesday morning, for the races. My goal is to ride 100 miles. Chester's goal is 12 laps. Each lap is approx 17 miles. Chris Barney- who also enjoys a healthy bike going into the race, if you catch my drift, hopes to complete 6 laps.
Before we fly out, I have one more not so minor detail to meet. Today, in a short two hours I will appear before a panel of Chief's for my Captain interview. Although it has added an undercurrent of additional stress as we packed for not one, but two vacations (more on that later) I will be relieved to have the process complete before we leave Portland. This has been a year long succession of: studying, written test, assessment center (scenario-based drills, oral resume and written communication problems) and now will finally close with the Chief's Interviews. We, meaning myself and the other candidates, assuming we pass the Chief's Interview, wait on a ranked list for retirements. Then, as positions become available, we are placed according to our rank. I am number 5 on the list.
AFTER THE RACE Chester and I will head from Tucson, AZ to Tortola Island in the British Virgin Islands. We are meeting three additional couples for a week long sailing trip on a 52 foot Catamaran. As you can imagine, the packing alone was quite a challenge for this two week hiatus. But both the sailing trip and the race have also been in planning for a year. So three goals will be met and dreams played out as the next two weeks progress.
I am thankful for the opportunities I have to pursue such adventures as well as to challenge myself and develop as a leader at PF&R. In the past I would not have chosen to juggle three major undertakings at one time. My focus was narrow, singular, and strong. These days I've noticed some drift in my approach. Though there is room to reinvigorate and visit the singular goal, I'm enjoying the balance and diversity I've welcomed by gaining a wider perspective. Or maybe this is just another verbose excuse for not training. :) Catch you when we return...Thanks for reading.
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