'Though he be but little he be fierce'!

Our wee man is 9 weeks old today. In baby terms, he's actually not so wee, weighing in at just shy of a stone already and he's growing at a pace that my arm strength is struggling to keep up with! He was in 3-6 month clothing at 6 weeks: what a porker! That’s what comes of having a 6’4” Dad and a 5’7” Mum! I cannot believe how quickly time flies when you are living your life in 3 hourly blocks between feeding-winding-nappy changing sessions (sleep features minimally – he doesn’t like napping in the day as he seems to be frightened of missing out on something!) For something so tiny he has had a massive impact on our daily lives. Mind you, between the endless 3 hourly feeding cycles, I have managed to fit in a surprising amount of training!

I must highlight from the off that me being able to resume training has only been possible thanks to the amazing support of my family as he still cannot be put down in the day due to his silent reflux. My visions of having him napping next to me in his moses basket whilst I pedal merrily away on my spin bike, or chilling in his pram in the middle of the nearby cricket pitch whilst I run reps around him have proved to be wild visions of my antenatal idealistic imagination! Thank God I only paid £25 for his moses basket from Aldi as it has seen no use since he reflux kicked in at week 2! It does, however, provide a good storage facility for his cuddley toys, so it is getting some use! I have become the master of in-sling activities, including doing the washing, cooking and even blogging with him on me in the sling (see photo for evidence!). If we go out for lunch, I hope he is chilled enough in his sling to allow me to sit down, but mostly he isn’t a fan of Mummy sitting on her backside and prefers her to be on the move: Yes, well done to all you wise cracks who correctly predicted that by running with him in the womb and swimming up until week 39 of pregnancy I was setting myself up for a baby who won’t sleep unless moving! Many coffees out with friends have been “enjoyed” with me stood up pacing around the table while they sit down like normal people! Meals are also taken with him chilling in his sling below. The sling is now covered in a varied manner of curry sauce, tomato juice and guacamole stains and he invariably ends up with my lunch secreted about his person: today’s treat was a smoked salmon and samphire sandwich; hastag, first world baby problems…. Yes, our wee man has his challenges, bless him, and apparently reflux affects boys more than girls (as I keep saying, boyz iz trouble). Life as a Mum is not at all as I had envisioned – I think whatever you envision, it will end up surprising you at every turn – but that is the magic of it and those precious moments towards the end of a feed cycle when he is not screaming with the acid burning from his previous feed or else screaming because he is gearing up for another grubbing, are truly joyous. And as for my first smile, which he dutifully gave me on my first Mother’s Day, it melted my heart. Those moments make all the struggles worthwhile. Anyway, I digress. I promise that this is not turning into an exclusively mother-and-baby-blog and is still very much sport focussed; however, I cannot not touch upon the huge impact this tiny little being has had on my sport and so he will inevitably feature in some capacity in most of my blog posts from now on. Anyway, down to sporting business…

In sling blogging.

In sling baking. 

Training has resumed in earnest. After recommencing some easy running 11 days after giving birth and subsequently being warned by a fellow Mum and runner friend about the rather unpleasant risks of doing so in the first 6 weeks postpartum, I promptly knocked running on the head again. Cycling also had to wait until, well, er, the old undercarriage had healed a bit. I started back on the spin bike again after 2 weeks but there was A LOT of out of the saddle work in those early days!! I tried running again at 5 weeks postpartum, feeling reassured that everything was ‘back in its rightful place’, and I instantly felt amazing. I knew from some runner friends who had had babies and breastfed them that it can result in increased oxygenated blood and is akin to being on natural EPO with the added bonus that it is entirely legal and you don’t need to provide the BTF with a TUE for it!! They weren’t wrong! I was gliding along effortlessly despite not having done any real cardio efforts since finding out I was pregnant last June. At 6 weeks I decided I was ready for parkrun already… cue impending disaster. Yes, I felt amazing, coasting along at 6:50m/m pace without even being out of breath. Sadly, my legs were no match for my lungs however and after 4 months of not doing any strength work, my calf said ‘no thanks’ 2.4 miles in and so I had to bail. Gutted as I was on for a comeback 5k time in the region of 21 minutes just 6 weeks after giving birth: that’ll teach me to be impatient for results!

Cue a trip to my trusty physio, Nigel Wilman at Honiton, and a diagnosis of a calf cramp (luckily I stopped straight away and so prevented a tear). This was the best case scenario and should heal fairly quickly with some rehabbing and a sensible and slow return to running. Meanwhile, during this glorious sunny weather, I have been enjoying getting out on the bike after sacrificing riding on the open roads whilst I had my precious cargo on board for 9 months. I love riding in the sun and the oxygenated blood cells have been making their presence felt on the bike too as I have been floating up climbs that would previously have had me puffing. Too bad hill climb season isn’t until Autumn as I’m in shape ad raring to go now! Rides are squeezed in between feeds, with either Matt, my Mum or my father-in-law kindly stepping in to wear a baby for an hour. I just have to pray I don’t puncture as I know I would get in a flap about getting back in time for his next feed and totally fluff fixing it. In fact, in my desperation to get back to my baby, I would probably throw pride out the window and play the damsel in distress card and flag down a fellow passing cyclist for assistance!

In terms of a comeback race, I am now undecided. I have entered Ottery 10k on May 12^th but I think it will be a bit too early in terms of my calf rehab to race a 10k on tarmac. There is also the Exe Valley Triathlon that day, with just a 5k run at the end, which might be a more reasonable ask. Of course, I also have the option of being ultra-sensible and waiting a little longer before racing… hmm, yeh, like that’s gonna happen! In terms of bigger goals, I am looking at the GB team qualifying race for the European sprint duathlon championships: the qualifier is in October in Bedford and the championships are in Soria, Spain next year… yes, back to Soria! At least I will know the course and the logistics of travelling to and from the location, which should minimise the stress. Mind you, heading there this time with a baby in tow will maximise the stress, so it’s swings and roundabouts. Much as I feel that my strengths lie in endurance rather than speed, I don’t have the time this year to put in the bike mileage to do the standard distance justice, so the sprint it is.

I have these grand plans but in reality there is now a tiny person on the scene who has the potential to throw multiple toy spanners in the works. Take today for example, I had every intention of going to Torbay to watch and support the sprint triathlon there. Both my own coach, Chris Dominey (name not a coincidence, he’s also my cousin-in-law!) and one of my coached athletes, Sarah Taffler, were taking part, so I would have loved to have supported them, but it was simply too hot to take him out and have him exposed to the blazing sun at the exposed venue. Shame as my sponsor Patrick of PDW Sport was going to be there doing the race massages and I’d have loved a catch up with him. I am so grateful to him for his continued support (and faith!) in me this season; I am heading into unknown territory trying to get back into competitive racing, with the aim of competing for my country again, in the same year as having my first baby, so having regular massage and maintenance on my post-preggers fragile body will be a massive benefit. Thanks Patrick – you are awesome!

I guess the biggest change in training and competing since having a baby is the colossal level of planning that has to be involved. Gone are the days of deciding on a whim that as it’s sunny out I might like to head out on the bike. No more arranging with friends to coffee-ride together at 10am, as at 10am I might have a baby on my boob and timescales vary massively from one day to the next. Sessions are now restricted to an hour tops between feeding cycles. Prioritising is essential: yes, I would love to keep up the yoga classes to help my flexibility, and the core classes to help me regain my strength, but I can only fit in around 5 activities a week, if I'm lucky, and when you do a sport that already involved 3 activities, add-ons like yoga are an impossible luxury. Yesterday I drove past a lovely hill and thought, ‘Ooh, I could drive here, park up and do a hill reps session’… and then it hit me: oh yes, you have a baby now, what will you do with him? Can’t exactly leave him in the car at the bottom! Training now involves the goodwill and support of others and will do so for some years to come. It involves being super organised whilst also acknowledging the need to be flexible: if we’ve had a bad night or if baby won’t settle, he is now my priority, NOT fitting in the miles on the bike or the lengths in the pool. For someone so focussed, who likes to do something every day and gets a bit twitchy if I can’t, this is the biggest adjustment. But looking at our wee man’s face as he smiles when he hears his Mummy’s voice makes all the sacrifices worthwhile. Hopefully the breastfeeding blood boosters will compensate for the lack of training anyway!