November 23, 2009

Reckless coaching

Almost three months since Malo was born, and I can't say I hate motherhood so much that I would give him back if I could. I even did not mind too much the night wake-up calls... although to be fair, they stopped after only 5 weeks, so I can't really complain anyway.

Something I find very difficult though is not to be able to do sports the way I used to. Or even half of what I used to. Or, to be totally honest, even a third. As a result, I am probably the only woman who managed to put on weight since she gave birth, and in spite of breast-feeding.

But I needn't worry. During pregnancy, Malo did not let me down and came along to every single one of my run (yes, I know, it is not like he had a choice, but still). He also, by steadily growing inside my belly, provided additional weight training as the months went by. And today, my son is doing his best to keep his mum somehow fit.

For a start, he is still growing. Probably around 6kgs to date, and counting. You may say that it is not much weight training wise, but try lifting 6kg dumbells for 2 hours non-stop, and you will see that when the little devil is crying for that long, your arms - and back - are working hard. And I should know: mine are still hurting from last week-end's "training session". And when you don't feel like training, too bad: you can be sure this is the day your self-nominated coach has chosen for a double whammy: crying/carrying/weight training session morning AND evening.

Carrying the prom is also serious training. For a start, the thing weights about a tonne, meaning that nurses and midwives who, at the maternity ward, told you repeatedly that "for the next few months, you should never carry anything heavier, than your baby" either were lucky enough to have an in-house maid doing everything for them or never have had a baby themselves. Add to this the fact that we live in a walk-up, I can tell you this is worth several stairmaster sessions a day.

Now, if you want the really hard core session, just do the following: put the baby in the prom, go shopping, realise once downstairs that you forgot something essential, go back upstairs (of course with the baby - in the prom as he is sleeping and you don't want to wake him up), then back downstairs, go shopping, come back with two heavy bags full of groceries (oh, and a 12-bottle beer pack while you cannot even drink the bloody stuff because you are breast-feeding), and the prom. Oh, and the baby, as it seems it is bad manner to forget him at the supermarket.

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