Last week, before I signed up for that half marathon, I was having one of Those Days. The ones where I realize I will never get to ride endurance again, because it’s such a solo sport, and I start frantically looking for something active and outdoorsy to do with a baby.A baby that gives FREE HUGS is a pretty good tradeoff though.
(Those Days aren’t rational. I know that Orion might like to ride, and he might like to bike while I ride, and he might like to run with me, and he might like to hike and ride me or Dixie when he gets tired, and it’s just gonna take a little while to figure out which of those scenarios is true. But time just crawls sometimes, and this is what gets me through the night.)That horse looks really good!
So I was looking up camping with a baby — never mind that I barely understand camping without a horse, and I don’t know what I’d do if I woke up in a sleeping bag and didn’t have to get on a horse before dawn — and I clicked around for a while and ended up finding this.
Go read the whole thing, but this bit really resonated with me:
I know as well as any new mama how it feels when that-friend-who-started-trail-running-a-month-after-delivering-a-baby posts a photo of her latest baby-free jaunt through the woods … And I discovered that comparing myself to others really is futile because I don’t want others to compare themselves to me. I know that I post a lot of photos of me doing active, outdoorsy things, so I wanted to set the record straight.
Yall know that I’m so proud of getting out for an hour to run, or four hours to ride, because it’s the highlight of my week, right? I spend so much time sitting on the couch nursing this dude that I ended up getting a special butt-pillow. Most days I do the bare minimum to keep body and soul together for me, the baby, and the pets. So yeah, I use my blog to celebrate my exceptional achievements — but don’t misunderstand, they truly are exceptional achievements and they take a lot of effort.Here’s my gratuitous trail porn panorama. Click on over to see it full size.
Part of the problem that seems common to most of us adrenaline junkie types is (Former) Fat Kid Syndrome. We were some combination of fat, clumsy, and nerdy in grade school, and we just can’t shake those self-definitions. I’ve been pushing myself to be stronger and go longer for -six years- now and it still feels like I’ll be a permanent couch potato if I take a week off. I don’t feel very impressive, and I don’t look particularly impressive, but here I am, taking pics of my latest baby-free trail run.Just one more.
And while you’re reading links, here’s something I wish I’d read when I was pregnant.
I feel like I was exactly as active as I needed to be — including being a total couch potato for all of November and December — but I felt a lot of guilt about it. People kept sending me links to stories just like the ones she talks about, stories about women sprinting at nine months and marathoning at seven and whatnot. I just wanted ice cream, man.I grew this dude on Chipotle burrito bowls and ice cream.
So if you’re pregnant or you’re thinking about it, go read that, ok? Just being pregnant is enough. You feel the same (or awful) every day, but your body really is busy doing a lot of stuff. Do only what feels good and right. (I wouldn’t trade my ride’n’tie, hard as it was, for anything!) But don’t feel bad about how much or how little you’re doing.Trust me, it’s a good time in life to cultivate your “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. Soon as you have that baby people are going to be sending you sleep training advice* and breast/bottle advice and vaccination debates and it will never stop.
*Look, I pretty much never say this, but I am judging the hell out of you if you leave your 8 week old alone for twelve hours and call it sleep training. Judging you SO HARD.
Milestones achieved recently include: getting really good at holding his head up and learning how to operate his hands to bring a toy to his face.