I’ve been kind of surprised how out of shape pregnancy + the first few postpartum months made me. I thought for sure working out at a high intensity until the day before I gave birth would have prevented this. True, I didn’t regularly run after June, so I knew that would be the toughest to get back to after the baby.
But I didn’t expect to be So Slow and So Out of Shape.
I’m placing a lot of the blame on breastfeeding hormones. I just don’t feel like myself. I don’t look like myself. I don’t weigh like myself. I have fat in places I never store fat (tummy, boobs, arms, face). Normally, I could gain 100 pounds and it would all go to my butt and hips and I’d probably still have a flat stomach (I’d look like some freakish fertility statue from a cave, I’m sure). I think it’s whatever hormonal cocktail mix that’s happening right now.
With that said, I’ve been reading some other blogs whose authors are, also, exclusively nursing and they are as fast as ever. So who knows? Maybe I’m just plain old out of shape.
But I know I have always been super-sensitive to hormones. They affect me pretty strongly. I have a feeling I will feel more like myself when I wean. Whenever the heck that will be. I’m just trying to regain as much fitness as I can in the meantime.
Of course, not sleeping well at night and not having the opportunity to work out as consistently as I should don’t help.
The past week I managed a treadmill run (three miles in the 9s which was actually pretty hard, boo), a weights + trampoline cardio class (not great for my pelvic floor, but I’m doing an article on the class so I had to do it), a great Spin class, and I’ve moved onto the advanced pelvic floor workouts from Tasha Mulligan. Which are definitely more challenging but I think that’s the next level of recovery for me.
I’m planning on going to my favorite conditioning class at the gym tonight. I’ve missed this one a lot. It kicks my butt. Heavy squatting, lunging, weights…My dad has generously offered to stay with the baby a couple times a week to give me a break from my 12-hour holding Henry full-time job. I’m going to bring Anna, since Grandpa hasn’t mastered the multitasking of feeding Henry and playing endless iterations of the “pretend you don’t know I’m Ariel the mermaid” game.
That game sucks, by the way. It’s as bad as the “Mommy, pretend you’re the teacher, and you don’t know I’m Rapunzel and I have long hair but then you see my costume and you’re surprised” game. Only because the game requires the player to do this 5,679 times. It’s like being directed in a movie by a perfectionist enfant terrible director.