Sport and me. We’ve been a thing for some time you see. Running, swimming, cycling, yoga, gym, spinning, horse-riding, tennis, hiking… you name it. I did something every day.
But now… well, Sport, it’s not you: it’s me. I’ve had a baby, you see, and things are a bit different. Exercising for an hour or more every day with a newborn is out of the question. At best, it seems like some self-indulgent vanity project and at worst, it seems like I would be undermining my body’s own recuperation post-labour. Catching up on forty winks has become more my jam than a punishing workout. Sport, you’re just going to have to take a backseat for a while. And, surprisingly, that’s fine.
Exercise has become more about fitting around my life than my life fitting around exercise. My mother looks after my 4-month old daughter on Monday mornings so I use that time to go swimming, and I’ll get out for a run one morning at the weekend. Other than that, I see what the week throws at me and go from there. I’ll do 45 minutes of yoga in my front room during baby nap-time perhaps once or twice a week, and sometimes I make it to a buggy fit class at a local park. I try to remember to use my daughter to do a few arm lifts and ab crunches every now and then and other than that I just try to get out and about
with her in the baby carrier or in the pram as much as possible.
It’s certainly not Insane Circuits and I’m not quite as toned as before, but actually I find that having a baby is constant low-level exercise anyway. Sure, i’m not pushing myself in the same way as before and it’s taking me a while to get my running and swimming distances back to what they were, but I’m on my feet most of the day and am usually rushing around. Plus the alternative is so worth it. I’d so much rather spend an hour grinning inanely at my baby than grinding away at the gym right now anyway.
And you know what, Sport, I know you’ll always be there for me. I’ll come back to you one day. I promise.