Sandbagger

I have a reputation for being a bit of a sandbagger. For example, if I set a goal for a race for 1:45 I might cross the finish around 1:35. I don’t do it on purpose and I feel like I’m just setting realistic goals. And besides, isn’t it better to exceed a goal than to fall short? What’s going to keep you encouraged? Success of course! So, historically the expectations I have for myself are usually fairly easy.

Well, my recovery has been a different story. I expected to very quickly be able to jump back into my running shoes and take Reedster out in the jogging stroller. The day after we came home from the hospital we started taking walks in the neighborhood and I was stunned at how bad I hurt. No pain, no gain, so I pushed on. I didn’t expect it not to hurt and I knew it was normal to ache. We walked just about every day, even when Mike’s parents were in town and when my Mom and sister were in town. One day I even did a little jogging with the stroller in walking intervals. It was good for my sanity to be active and it was important to me.

Turns out I was really delaying my recovery and I now know that if I had taken it easier I would have recovered a whole lot faster. They say 6 weeks before you can exercise but I thought I was special. I thought, “sure 6 weeks for most people. Not me.” What’s with 6 weeks anyway? Why is 6 the magic number? I just wanted to get my body back and start feeling normal again. Mike and I discussed my activity level because my walks were not just walks. I lunged, squatted, kicked and repeated hills for an hour/hour and a half. When he confronted me about it I had to explain, we’re not that different, him and me! Last month he injured his feet, and instead of taking even one week off- he ran 5 miles two days later, which of course made it much worse. Why do we do this? Because it sucks not to work out! It makes me grumpy, depressed, and zero fun to be around. I need to feel the fresh air rushing into my lungs and the warm blood pumping to my muscles! I want to feel strong and fast again! I want to get sore the next day!

I was so proud of myself when I stepped on the scale less than two weeks after Reed was born and I was 12 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. I had goals for losing the rest! Yet here I sit, Reed is 5 weeks and I haven’t budged another pound. I’m on my butt all day until my body gives me the thumbs up. I’m pretty close to feeling like I can start walking again and my appointment is on the 11^th where my doctor will be able to give me the green light. It turns out everyone was right and I shouldn’t have been over-doing it. Very difficult for someone who was still working out up to the day I went into labor. What make it harder is my ever expanding butt and thighs.