My Romance With Running

Stories about running


5 Comments

Taupo Cycle Challenge

10 years before I was born, in 1977,  26 friends got together to ride and raise funds for their local IHC and The Lake Taupō Cycle Challenge was born.

It is now New Zealand’s largest cycling event, and is the event I picked it to be my first ever cycling race. The main ride circles around Lake Taupō, which has the largest surface area of any lake in New Zealand and was formed by a huge supervolcanic eruption 26,500 years ago. It is the largest known eruption in the whole world in the past 70,000 years!

The lakes around where I grew up in Fiordland were formed by glaciers, slowly carved out by ice over thousands of years, not created by a surprise burst of extreme heat.

Trust me this is relevant.

DSC_0044.jpg

Storm rolling in over the Hunter Mountains – Lake Manapouri

This year I was one of 5,156 people that took part in the Taupō Cycle Challenge. Amongst the elite athletes like Olympian Hamish Bond, the people on tandem bikes that must have incredibly stable relationships, the mud splattered mountain bikers, the little shredders in the kids race, and the two guys riding Onzo bikes wearing tiny dick togs, I was right there getting in on the action.

My goal for entering this event was to have something to focus on other than running. I had entered the 160km ride, but I wasn’t able to train for it to the level I wanted to because of various things like the pēpi not taking a bottle, Wellington’s inhospitable weather, and just being the most tired I have ever been in my whole DAMN LIFE WHY WONT THE BABY SLEEP so I downgraded my entry to the half lake.

IMG_9171

Elliot didn’t know that you’re allowed to ride two abreast. She’s just a baby.

I was tossing up whether or not to downgrade as I didn’t want to have to pay the $15 administration fee. But as a friend pointed out, ‘When you are done riding the first 80km, would you be willing to pay 20cents per kilometre to not do another 80?’

Yes I would. Here, take my $15.

Friday night and the pre race preparations were going swimmingly; pasta for dinner with red wine, good friends, good food, and great conversations. A lovely king size bed with no old milk spew stains on the duvet cover, ready to sink in to and get a great night’s rest before the race.

Elliot had other ideas, and woke up every 60-90 minutes wanting to be fed and re-settled. After six months of this it didn’t even really register that I’d had stuff all sleep and I just dealt with it.

I woke up for the fifth and final time on race day at 6am to the sweet songs of my human alarm clock and decided that this time I’d stay up for good. The smell of coffee was already drifting up the stairs meaning Chan and Orsi were awake, time to get ready for my first cycling race!

I’d laid out my kit the night before so it was easy to find everything. I had a small tin of Butt Butter anti-chafe cream that I lathered on my saddle contact points (compare it to spreading Best Foods mayo all over a tortilla, get it right to the edges) before putting on my bib shorts. Moments later, there was a warm tingle, then a surprise burst of extreme heat. This company also make a deep heat product too, who knew?

giphy.gif

After frantically trying to wipe off the burning cream I fed Elliot, got dressed, then we were on our way to meet the bus that would take me to the start of my ride.

I sat on the bus making polite small talk, staring at the floor and judging everyone’s cycling ability by their socks. The leaky roof of the bus was steadily dripping on to the sleeve of my jacket and I pretended not to care, like I was some hardened cyclist who totally didn’t ever bail on rides because of a little rain.

IMG-20181124-WA0003.jpeg

Found my bike!

I felt a mixture of pre-race nerves, painful period cramps, some remnants of deep heat fury and an increasingly desperate urge to pee. After an hour of absent-mindedly sipping electrolytes whenever there was a gap in the conversation on the bus (and the conversation was almost all gaps) I was really looking forward to the portaloo.

GOPR1042_1543025494029_high.JPG

‘It’s my first ever race!’ ‘No shit? Sweet vest.’

There was no mass start for this race, we just went whenever we wanted to. I started with a couple of teenage boys who were powering up the first hill. My ego told me to stick with them, you can’t let a couple of tiny kids beat you Amanda you’re over 30 for fuck’s sake, you’re a mother! Pedal harder, get up!

GOPR1046_1543025478389_high.JPG

Mid race selfie

As we climbed the first few hills I wondered if I was going out too hard too soon, there’s only one way to find that out so I just went for it. I wanted to get with a good bunch, but there were none around me so we had to make one.

I stuck with the boys, taking turns in front, grateful for the calm breathing techniques I learned in labour so I could pretend like I wasn’t at threshold trying to pedal with these annoyingly fit teenagers. We picked up a few full-sized men doing the 160km who joined our motley bunch, a fast female rider who had been dropped, a few more men, and by Turangi we had a little group of around 12 riders and things were moving well.

GOPR1052_1543025534391_high.JPG

I’ll just sit back here thanks

We drifted in and out of different bunches as we made our way along the lakeside. I was getting dropped by the curvy (or is it burly?) men on downhills, floating past them on the uphills, working together with so many different riders with their different strengths was a great experience.

The bunch had broken apart on the undulations before Hatepe Hill, the hill that everyone talks about as being steep and awful. It’s definitely the biggest hill on the course, but it isn’t as hard as riding up Makara.

20x30-LTAD0546

I almost look like I am supposed to be here.

In the final 15km I was in a new bunch of four men doing the full lake ride, all a lot stronger than me, all riding S-Works bikes that looked like they probably weren’t purchased off Trademe with a free pair of old MTB shoes. We worked together until the final hill up to the roundabout when I thought I should ride a bit harder and put some effort in, and I dropped them all. Pew pew!

So maybe they were riding twice as far as I was and they were tired. Maybe they had more weight to carry. Maybe they were finishing well under 5 hours. I still felt like it was a small win within my race that wasn’t really a race.

20x30-LTAM0484

The final km, suffering a lot.

The final stretch in to the centre of Taupō was where it rained the hardest. By this stage I just wanted it to be over, I was groaning in pain pushing dead legs as fast as they could go, my ass hurt, my back hurt, I was soaking wet. Looking at my finishing video, my form is awful and it looks like I’m trying to run across the line, but on a bike. I was giving it my best.

20x30-zzzz11711.jpeg

I did it!

The finish wasn’t how I had imagined it back when when I first entered the race. I would think of finishing to get me through all of those crappy sessions on the wind trainer, think of the end goal, the prize!  I would hear the GPS beeping to tell me I’d hit 160km, squinting into the sun, pushing hard and racing right to the line, people cheering, elation at having completed my longest ever ride, meeting my family at the finish, holding Elliot in the air like a squealing trophy filled with sour milk, happy to see her after hours spent apart.

When I crossed the line I had no idea of how the race had played out, since we had all started at different times.  There were no familiar faces as the HCR group I was going to ride with were still out doing the full 160km, and because it was wet I knew that Brendon and Elliot would not be standing in the rain waiting. I had no phone to call anyone, it was in a drop bag that hadn’t made it’s way back to Taupō yet. I was freezing cold. It was my first race so my time felt a bit irrelevant, did I do ok? Should I be happy?

I got a good five minutes of cyclocross in as I rolled around the grassy wet finishing area, trying to find just one recognisable face, pretending that I wasn’t at a complete loss as of where to go and what to do.

When you’ve just ridden in the rain for over two hours, your only sustenance in that time a coffee flavoured gel that stuck to your gums, and a cliff bar that had the ingredients sticker soaked in to the back of it (you ate the sticker too), you’re pretty damn hungry.

Just past the race finishing chute was a huge trestle table with mandarins. PEELED MANDARINS! Hallelujah! I bit off all my nails the day before the race and now my fingers were so cold that I’d have had better luck peeling it with my frozen nipples than my useless numb stumps of fingers.

46847355_2218025874898563_1518840426029645824_o.jpg

Mandarins instead of bananas, what next?!

After 72km of riding with a wet chamois, what could be better than eating a mandarin?

I finished 72.4km in 2.17.32, 8th female of 362 and first in my age group, you can see my ride on Strava and the official results are here.

I figure that with a few minor adjustments I can improve my time if I try this race again next year:

  • Lose the additional chest weight – 30 seconds
  • Replace the CX bike with a real life road bike – 2mins
  • Order some sunshine – 1min
  • Wear lipstick -15 seconds
  • Start in a bunch -5mins
  • Sleep 8 hours the night before -2mins
  • Don’t have a baby 6 months before the race -3mins

I learned a lot in training for and riding this event. I learned how to make time for myself when everyone else seems to be the priority. I discovered the importance of taking proper rest when I’m tired, and how a lack of sleep can impact your training. I figured out how to push myself a bit harder over hills, and how to do just the right amount of work when riding in a bunch.

I would love to go back next year and do it all again, Elliot will be older and sleeping better (dream on), I’ll be riding the new S-works that Santa is bringing me, and hopefully I’ll be alongside the people I train with doing the full lake loop. See you in 2019!

Advertisements


Leave a comment

Wairarapa Womens 100

On the 15th of September 2018, women all over the world rode their bikes together as part of the Rapha Women’s 100. Being in New Zealand we were lucky enough to be one of the first to complete the ride, and had the privilege of doing it around the rolling hills of the Wairarapa on a sunny day.

gopr0708_1536975591085_high.jpg

What a day for it!

The Wairarapa Women’s 100 is a non-competitive cycling event hosted by Traction Fitness to celebrate women’s riding. It begins in Martinborough at the Village Cafe then goes out for a 66km loop around Gladstone, back through Martinborough then out for a final 35km loop around Greytown.

 I’ve never entered a cycling event before this one, they all seemed a bit intimidating and I was never sure if I was fit enough or if I had the right gear. The last time I cycled with a large group of females I was at boarding school, and that was just every 28 days, not 100km. The way the event was described made me confident that it would be fun, and that there was no pressure if I got tired and wanted to stop riding.

‘If you have never thought about completing 100 km, start thinking about it – you will never be in the company of so many supportive women cyclists. And if you can’t manage 100 km without stopping, then you don’t have to. You can stop for coffee and cake.’

I have attempted to go on a ‘Easy ride to meet people’ with a bunch of mostly men and a few women. Before we had ridden 3km I was hanging off the back with my heart rate at threshold, trying in between gasps to introduce myself to the other ladies who had also been dropped like some regrettable 2am dance moves in Estab. This heart attack continued for a further 60km.

When we eventually stopped at the cafe, I got there last so was the last person to get my coffee and scone, this was devastating when I had burned matches, lit my curtains on fire and then razed to the ground any remaining energy I had. JUST GIVE ME THAT BUTTERY SCONE NOW! I enjoyed that ride because it was challenging, but it wasn’t easy and I struggled to meet people as I could. Not. Breathe.

GOPR0648_1532819650842_high.JPG

The ‘Easy ride’ where I red lined for 60km.

The Wairarapa Women’s 100 looked like it would actually be easy, and I figured if I do get dropped it doesn’t matter because I know I can handle a tough 60km and just finish at the cafe.

On the day there were three starting groups based on a description of how you feel and how you want your day to go, rather than a specific time. This was great because as someone who has never done a cycling event, I had no idea how long it would take me to ride 100km. I picked the last start group;

‘You will have completed a 100 km ride before & although not feeling 100% will know you can do it with encouragement :)’

DCIM106GOPROGOPR0700.JPG

The start of the ride! People in matching kit make me nervous.

We set off along the quiet roads winding through vineyards that I had last ridden along 9 glasses of wine deep, and I thought how great it was to return here and have the same level of enjoyment with just water, and a way fancier bike.

Within half an hour our starting group of 30 had split in to a few smaller pelotons (am I using the right word?) and my group formed a sassy little chain gang.

Riding 40km an hour rotating through the group and taking turns at the front, I felt amazing, it was so cool! I felt so privileged to be among a group of strong, badass lady cyclists all sharing the work, encouraging and motivating each other. We also looked out for each other when aggro motorcyclists tried to scare us shitless by riding extremely close and tooting. Jokes on you, man, no matter how scared I got I wasn’t going to shit in my new Rapha kit.

We went through the 66km loop in just over two hours, I couldn’t believe how fast it was. Riding in a bunch is so much easier, and more fun, than riding alone. From around 50km I had run out of water, I tried to drink a lot to keep up my milk supply with feeding baby E. I was so looking forward to seeing her at the end of the first loop and expected her to be needing me, or at the least happy to see me. She didn’t care.

I quickly got my kit off in a non-sexy using my mammaries to feed my child sort of way, made easier by my awesome Cadenshae feeding bra, and baby E had a wee tipple of the nipple.

Because I stopped my fast group had all sailed straight through on to their second lap, so I set out on my own for the final 34km. Half way around a group of amazing ladies caught up to me so I tagged on the back and so began another little coordinated effort, taking turns to lead and chatting about riding.

I managed to finish the 100km in about 3 hours 20 minutes, which is how long it takes me to do 70km around Wellington on my own! You can see the route on Strava here.

I was worried about being able to feed four month-old Baby E on this ride as she won’t take a bottle, but that turned out not to be an issue at all. The Village cafe was the perfect place to stop off and do this. I was also a bit worried about riding for so long with my period #ladyproblems but that was a non-issue as well. I used a cup for the first time and it was hassle free, I didn’t notice it at all.

IMG_8624

My Girl

I had an amazing day out riding with cool new people in a beautiful new place. It gave me a lot of confidence in my abilities, and I rode 100km! The event was casual in atmosphere but super organised so that we had all the information and guidance that we needed to make it a fun and stress-free day on the road. Everyone was very supportive, from the guy who made sure we were taking the right turns on the road, to the riders, my awesome partner, the guy who put my chain back on while I was breastfeeding and the cafe staff, everything was ka pai! 10/10 Would recommend!

 


Leave a comment

The Wrong Side of the Bed

Tyres pumped up, lights fully charged, kit laid out, snacks ready, alarm set. I was pretty excited about doing a hill session with the HCR group early on Thursday. Riding with friends as the sun is coming up is such a great way to start the day.

IMG_9002.jpg

Then I got out of the wrong side of the bed…

Thankfully this was at 11.30pm, so I just got back in. I got back out on the right side at 1am. 3am came around, woops, wrong side! Better try again. 4.15am, woohoo! Right side, but a couple of hours too early. Better get back in!

As much as you can prepare to make sure you fit in some exercise, there are some things that you can’t help. Things like your baby waking up 7 times in the night; the four month sleep regression is a real thing.

IMG_20180913_123205.jpg

The alternative to my hill session.

I haven’t been feeling very enthusiastic about exercising the past few weeks. The usual tactics I use to motivate myself just aren’t working for me.

In the past I would be thinking about a goal, and each session would be a step towards completing it. Right now I am a bit aimless with my running because I don’t have any goals to work towards. This is largely because I don’t want to put the pressure on myself or on my body to train hard.

Just run for the fun of it then! Well. The only times I can run are early morning or late in the evening. Often it is a run in the dark, and I’m on a short leash- limited to the extremely hilly neighbourhood streets. The running is almost always done alone. Where is the fun in that?

IMG_20180815_154331.jpg

All charged up and nowhere to run

My fitness and health have been a priority for me since 2009 when the price of Southern Gold increased from five bucks for a six pack and I realised that the cost of partying wasn’t just hurting my wallet.

It’s hard to make it a priority when you have another human to look after that needs to be fed, clothed, cleaned and now, entertained!

Last Sunday I should have done a long ride to train for the 160km cycling race (gulp, nervous fart) that I am doing in November. Three hours or more on the bike by myself was not appealing. I would rather spend time with my family and do something relaxing with them; go for a walk, have coffee, eat cookies, blow spit bubbles and do some out of control arm and leg flailing on the floor with no pants on.

I was happy that I chose family time, but felt a little bad that I was lacking in motivation to train for the big event I had committed to. The more I thought about it, I realised that I was motivated. Looking back at what I did that week, I still did two sessions on my wind trainer, I ran four times, I did rehab work and I walked with the buggy.

That doesn’t say ‘not motivated’ that says that my priorities have changed and I’m giving time to the things that are important to me.

I did have a win recently when I ran pretty close to my race handicap time of 32 minutes for 8km at my club’s Tanadees cup club race. I was a bit disappointed to go 26 seconds over the time then I realised how ridiculous I was being. I am proud of this run! I am only running 30km a week and have had such a long break from running. That can only mean good things ahead right?

IMG_1541.jpg

Closed eyes, striking heel, weird headband and no lippy. Disaster.

I did a three hour ride last month and I am hoping to do a couple of five hour rides in the lead up to my event but since E no longer takes a bottle this is going to involve a few loops that stop off at my house to make sure I can feed her. Hopefully she is keen on the bottle by the time the event comes around, if not I will find a way to work around it.

I’m not going to worry about ride logistics and possible baby challenges right now, because it’s bound to change and worrying won’t get me anywhere. I’m also not going to compare myself to pre-baby me because that is pointless too, ‘Comparison is the thief of joy unless you just got a Strava CR’

past


2 Comments

Exercising with a baby – The Wind Trainer

It’s a challenge to get exercise when you have a young baby. It’s not just because you can’t leave them to fend for themselves while you trot around the block for a run.

Has your body healed enough to exercise? Do you have the energy after getting up five times last night to feed them? Should you be tackling the pile of laundry or vacuuming the floor (that is looking rather gritty) instead of focusing on your fitness? Is it cruel to take them for a walk in the pram in the wind and rain?

I knew that to exercise I’d have to find a way to do it that did not involve leaving the house, so I bought a wind trainer to use with my bike.

getting-started-with-indoor-trainer

This is a wind trainer!

After some trial and error I have found the perfect method for a successful session on the wind trainer which I will share with you today. Below you will find the recipe for success, you can thank me later by sending me wine and cheese.

INGREDIENTS

  • Wind trainer – ordered online and held up due to duties tax which has turned in to a guilt tax at the amount you spent on it
  • Bicycle – best to have one with a filthy chain to match the rest of your filthy house
  • Large television – high-res so you can see details through sweaty squinting eyes
  • Table or shelf – at roughly the height of your top tube, wide enough to fit a baby on
  • Baby wrangling tools – i.e dummy, bottle, toys, a length of rope, your mum
  • Sleeping baby – (Do not use an awake baby, your recipe will be ruined)
GOPR0528_1530836987927_high.JPG

Example of an almost perfect set up

METHOD

1. Set up the wind trainer in front of the TV, lining up the cassette with the black smear of rubber you burned in to the carpet last time you tried to exercise on your bike.

HOT TIP! Set baby to sleep mode after you have set up your wind trainer to allow yourself three extra minutes of exercise.

2. Baby placement in relation to the bike is key if this recipe is to be a success. A good baby placement is to have their mouth within reach of your hand. When (not if, when) they cry you can easily put a bottle, dummy, or chain-grease covered finger into their mouth to placate them.

The best position is with baby sleeping parallel with your bike,  just out of range so that your knee doesn’t connect with their tiny infant body on the up stroke and fling them behind you. In this position it is easy to pick them up and dangle a sweaty breast into their mouth if they start to make screamy noises at you.

3. Put on a documentary about cycling, it should include doping, so pick any Tour de France race coverage. Watching people inject drugs into their butt cheeks will alleviate any parental guilt that you feel at putting yourself first and exercising when you think you should be cleaning, cooking, or doing baby related admin. Good on you for not injecting EPO in to your stretch mark-covered, saggy black underpants wearing, wobbly, sweaty ass cheeks. You’re going to earn a fitter bum-bum the honest way.

HOT TIP! Watch Icarus, Rodchenkov’s mother personally injected him with performance enhancing drugs. You aren’t doing any such thing to your precious baby, so while your kid might not win Olympic gold YOU might still win mother of the year!

4. Start the white noise of your pedalling BEFORE you turn on the TV to avoid any loud bangs that may activate the child’s startle reflex. If you can be bothered doing intervals, make sure that when you finish that hard minute of pedalling that you don’t clunk the gears changing them back down. This loud metal bang accompanied with your tired grunting activates the startle reflex in the baby, followed by the ‘waaaaah’ siren that is difficult to turn off without dismounting your bike.

5. If you begin to lose motivation, glance over at the baby’s head. Now look back at your bike seat, now back at the head. Your vagina has pushed out a thing bigger than the bike seat you’re sitting on, you’re a total bad ass! Superwoman,  if you laboured for hours then you can pedal a bike for five more minutes.

HOT TIP! If any sweat drips on to the baby, leave it there. Your child will learn from an early age what hard work tastes like. They have had almost every other possible bodily fluid of yours smeared on them so why not add this one to the collection?

If you begin to lose the will to live, looking at that sweet baby’s head will make you feel much better. You’ve already reproduced so your legacy will live on through the child if you don’t live to see the end of this wind trainer session.

 

 

 


3 Comments

How did I get an eleven out of ten?

Did I cheat? Did someone fudge the results? Was I using drugs?

I re-calculated just to make sure, and I still got the same answer. If circumference is equal to pi times the radius squared, the answer to two decimal places is 11.45 out of ten!

And that is the cleanest and simplest way I could describe childbirth. An 11.45cm wide thing out of, I’ll leave it there.

IMG_20180616_124315.jpg

Post ride with a peaceful pēpi

Today marks six weeks since a small human being with a head, limbs and a torso fought it’s way out of my pelvis. A small being with a head in the 95th percentile. That is the sentence I repeat to myself whenever I get tempted to run. I think of how my pelvis felt, and immediately all thoughts of running dissipate like pee in a birthing pool.

I decided last Saturday that today was the day, and I would go for my first ride post baby and post episiotomy. It had been so long that I had to really think about what to wear, what to take with me, what to leave at home crying and covered in milk.

IMG_9399

HAPPIER TIMES WITH MY BIKE! Living the dream.

The thought of sitting on my bike again was terrifying. The diameter of that seat is roughly 10cm at it’s WIDEST point. If I went for a ride, would the seat be swallowed up? Would I be stuck riding around the Bay’s in some hellish loop until my chain rusted and my tyres popped and the stem fell of the bike with me fused to it? You can’t get saddle sores if the seat isn’t under your bottom right? Always look for the positive in any situation.

Standing on the side of the road outside my house, gloved hands finding their familiar groove on the handlebars, Jawbreakers making the world look positively rosy, I waited for the familiar beep of the GPS to tell me it was time.

Beeeeep.

One leg strains and stretches over the top tube, a shoe finds the pedal then ‘click’, we’re going forward! As I rolled down the street and lowered myself down towards the seat with the care and precision of a neurosurgeon, chamois met seat and went no further, I was sitting on a bicycle!

GOPR0442_1529108830055_high.JPG

That time I kept up with Ben Barry on a bike

Free falling, spinning fast down hills, wind whipping my helmet strap into my face, cold air making my nose run, it was blissful. The road, my house, the dependant baby, it all disappeared behind me and for the first time in a month I felt like an individual. I wasn’t a frazzled and nervous new mum, I wasn’t carrying a fragile newborn, I was just another lycra-clad wanker on a bike.

I blew my nose onto the ground with vocal and forceful sniffs, I spat big stringy goobies on to the side of the road, I snorted, I did all the things that are not socially acceptable to do while you’re pushing a dear little child in a pram. The glorious ride lasted all of forty minutes, and when I got home little Miss was waiting for me and complaining that she was hungry.

IMG_20180616_125727.jpg

Tired much? Should have left my glasses on.

I’ve said to myself and multiple others that I will do the Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge in November. I think that having a non-running goal to work towards will be good for me in returning to fitness. It takes the pressure of trying to return to running too quickly, and I won’t have time to run too much if I try to get bike fit.

I know that it will be hard to get back in to good form for running, and I don’t want to compare myself or my performances to what I was doing pre-pregnancy and baby. I know that I would feel a bit inadequate and disappointed if I was taking a long time to get ‘fit’ again, or if in fact I never got back to the same level of fitness.

I had a go on the wind trainer this week, I forgot how much NOT FUN AT ALL it is.

IMG_20180619_093058.jpg

‘Make the most of them while they’re little’ they say to the new Mum. I’ll be making the most of them while they’re big, thanks.

I set myself up in front of the TV, baby asleep, house freezing cold. Conditions were prime for my first sweat session. Setback one was me playing a bike-packing movie on Netflix, ‘Pedal The World‘, to motivate myself. They were ambling along, taking in the culture and the scenery and really there was not a lot of action. So switched on Stop At Nothing and watched all the doped up cyclists smashing themselves up hill climbs and in sprints, day after day, year after year. Watching Lance go ball-to-wall was a bit more exciting than watching Felix talk about his feelings. Sorry Felix.

Setback two was that I managed to burn rubber in to the carpet. Twice. I blame the rusty old wind trainer for this unsightly mark in the middle of the living room. At least I know exactly where to set up next time (larger darker mark, slightly to the right is the perfect spot).

IMG_20180619_093258.jpg

The baby did it.

Today we bought a new wind trainer! So Taupo needs to become a reality to warrant this purchase. I did worry that I would never use the bike but that turned out to be the best damn purchase ever, so I’m sure this one will be the same.

Bring on the 80km, or 160km, which distance I enter depends completely on peer pressure.


Leave a comment

First the worst, second best, and last the golden princess!

Many people on the internets will tell you that the first trimester is terrible, the worst. They say that you will feel, and I quote, ‘fresh and full of energy‘ in trimester number two and that the third will be pretty terrible again.

In my experience, it gets better and better towards the end, this is why.

IMG-20180422-Grabi3-1.jpg

Running and walking Korokoro stream at 36 weeks

As soon as I hit the third trimester I slowed down my exercise a lot, I started to swim more and counted my walking commute to work and back as exercise. Walking never use to tire me out but the fatigue was really noticeable in the last few weeks of carrying around a basketball.

I had expected to slow down, and it made me appreciate and value every single time I got out for a walk, run, swim or bike ride. Everything felt like a win and a huge achievement. I knew that it wasn’t much longer that I would be carrying around the basketball so I took time to appreciate being pregnant.

I tried to get to the pool regularly and eventually managed to get to the point where I could swim a kilometre. The last time I went swimming was when I had a stress fracture in my pelvis, it was hard. This time was a little easier and I felt a bit more at home having friends to swim with and Dougal the swim coach there smiling on the sidelines.

IMG_20180314_194928_628.jpg

8 months pregnant

Training for the Third Trimester

  • Longest run: 7km – at the 30 week mark, at 5.09 pace what a speed demon
  • Longest ride: 30km
  • Average weekly hours of exercise: 2 hours plus walking to commute
  • Biggest run week: 23km
  • Last run: a run/walk up Makara Peak at 38 weeks 5 days
  • Last Ride: 15km easy around the bays at 38 weeks 3 days
GOPR0407_1525750282070_high.JPG

My last ride, probably shouldn’t do one-handed selfies 38 weeks preggo on a bike

The best parts

I won a race! Behold my glorious shiny trophy!

IMG_20180407_154322.jpg

The victors returned with the silver trophy held high above their heads, and drank non-alcoholic caffeine free beverages with a low risk of listeria from it’s depths into the wee hours of the morning

It was won by the only means I could possibly win, on handicap. Apparently I owe the handicapper a beer but that has nothing to do with me beating my handicap time…

In the 5km race with my club Scottish Harriers I lined up to start right at the front of the pack with everyone else, then realised that I wasn’t quite in 18:30 shape and retreated to the back of the herd.  I walked and ran the first few kilometres then picked up the pace in the final km, it felt so great to run fast again! I ran 27:45 at 34 weeks pregnant.

We went on so many adventures, and each new place we went I would think about how cool it would be when we could come back with the tiny human and show it all to her for the first time.

 

The worst parts

Riding down Ngaio Gorge 33 weeks pregnant and thinking that I had broken the seat on my bike. Reaching down to see what was wrong, I realised that it was just the feeling of my gut resting on the bike seat. I avoided using my low bars after this!

GOPR0334_1522391149878_high.JPG

Stretching BB’s kit to the limit #noaero

Nothing was really too bad in trimester #3, although I did get to the point where I said very loudly, over a roast dinner that I was so damn sick of being pregnant. I could barely reach the plate over my protruding stomach, I felt tired and sore and just fed up with being big.

The baby must have been listening to me whine, and two hours later labour started.

Snapchat-167608077.jpg

13-05-2018

I’m really looking forward to returning to running and riding once I get more familiar with my new job, my new body and all the fabulous new running gear I plan on buying because my chest doesn’t fit into the old stuff.

NEW BABY NEW BOOBS NEW CLOTHES THIRD TRIMESTER IS THE BEST!

 


13 Comments

My very first Tri(mester)!

It was a Sunday night in September when we first found out that you were a real thing.

In our grand old rented villa with stained-glass windows, in a past life it was classy and timeless but now looked like a dated student flat. Every furnishing and fixture carelessly battered, coloured the shade of white specifically achieved through years of overuse and under-cleaning.

I think the moment we were conscious of you, I started feeling sick. Stomach flipping as gravity and the ground and all those comfortable certainties in life began to disappear. The Sunday morning drudgery, dehydration, fatigue and nausea that had previously been earned through several glasses of pinot was now greeting me on every day of the week, no wine needed.

Three weeks later, a few little spews, some bike rides abandoned at half way and a lot of mid-day naps and I was allowed to start on a walk run program to get over my pelvic injury, osteitis pubis. Finally!

IMG_0455

Rehabbing. I still have little shoulders here hallelujah!

The commitment to going to the gym several times a week, cycling inside on the wind trainer and aqua jogging – none of it seemed very important any more when I knew that I wouldn’t be getting ‘fit’ any time soon.

In the early weeks I was still feeling really strong, going to chain gang rides with the HCR crew, charging up hills on my bike in the rain after work, motivation I can no longer relate to! On the days I didn’t feel good I would make sure I went for a walk to keep active, or for a ride alongside Mr B as he ran, just to get some fresh air in my lungs.

IMG-0504

8 weeks in after a fast morning ride around the bays I felt incredible. Light, happy, and with that satisfying deadness in my legs. I finally got that familiar feeling after a hard training session and I felt like myself again. But myself wasn’t just me any more, and that hard session was the last.

11 weeks pregnant and I was making lots of progress on my walk run program, 6 minute walk, four minute run for thirty minutes. One particular day was a five minute walk, followed by a trip to A&E. I read later that pregnancy can make your balance a bit off, I agree with that!

IMG-0724

I was in a panic because my chin bled a LOT when it split open, it hurt, and I had to get a tetanus injection. I was really worried about falling with the baby, but the Doctor said ‘It’s fine, your pelvis will have protected the baby, the pelvis is really strong!’. Oh you mean the pelvis that got a stress fracture? The same pelvis that keeps malfunctioning and preventing me from running? THAT PELVIS!? *cue sobbing*

The Doctor said she recognised my name from Strava, and noted that I might not be on the leaderboards any time soon. She gave me 8 stitches while I held Mr B’s hand. That hand softly slipped away during her graphic blow-by-blow account of poking fat back inside my chin with the end of a pair of scissors. I’m crossing my fingers and toes that he gets over that squeamishness by May 2018.

The last week of the first trimester was a great one. I had one of those runs (still 30% walking) that was so blissful, in the sunshine, around Wellington’s Oriental Bay and in that moment I knew that the rehab was all worth it. I felt like me.

Training for the First Trimester

  • Longest run: 5.6km (a run/walk)
  • Longest ride: 74.9km
  • Average hours of exercise: 3-5 per week (not including walking)
  • Biggest run/walk week: 30km

I switched a lot of runs out for walks through the botanical gardens, I slept a lot, I tried to remember that I wasn’t eating like an athlete and to cut down on the portion sizes to account for this. I don’t need to fear being hungry any more when I have no long run in the morning!

I think in a way it helped already being unfit to begin with. I was riding a lot and doing yoga and gym work, then I very slowly built in the walk-run program when I felt I could. Working on increasing my running at a time when I knew that I’d barely get started before I had to decrease it didn’t worry me. Do what you can, where you are, with what you have, and all that.

The Best Parts of the First Trimester

The Beautiful people at Harbour City Racing! Being able to ride with a group who were welcoming, who helped me to learn, raced me on the hills, and showed me how it is possible to change a tyre with no tyre lever made my life very happy.

IMG-0594

The titties! A new toy! I have taken great joy in popping a tit into every possible photo opportunity.

IMG-0967

It was just sooo hot I had to ride with my shirt open ( . ) ( . )

Already being unfit before I got pregnant meant getting away with having a bit of extra fluff around the tummy with no pregnancy suspicions at all.

The Worst Parts of the First Trimester

Not being in complete control of how my body feels. Training is certainty, you tick the boxes, you feel the benefits, you get the results. Having the motivation to get outside, but dry retching when you move makes training near impossible. Serena Williams winning a grand slam 8 weeks pregnant is more mind-blowing for me than Elon Musk’s Falcon Heavy rocket launching a car into space. I felt like utter shit at 8 weeks!

Keeping a secret is very hard. Declining the wine matches at a five course degustation because you ‘don’t feel like drinking wine’ is really flippin’ hard and also a really terrible lie.

IMG-0744

Documenting my ‘obviously pregnant’ tummy at 11 weeks

A lot of the time I felt like I was letting my friends down, because I was feeling too sick to hang out, too tired, or just too emotionally unstable to leave the house between tears at the impending human thing or stressing out about whether or not I’ll be a good mother. It has also made me think how I could have been more supportive of my own pregnant friends, I realise now how little I understood what they were going through. I think I get it now *dry retches*.

I feel like I was very lucky to be able to keep riding, running and doing the things I love in the first trimester without having to dig too many holes to bury little piles of spew on the side of Polhill trail.

I’m optimistic about the other TWENTY SEVEN WEEKS (oh myyy that’s a long time) being just as cruisy and a little less spews-y. I’m looking seriously in to a running buggy that looks friendly enough to take to the Plunket rooms but will perform like the Dodge Charger in Death Proof when I need it to.

Any suggestions much appreciated 🙂