Myth: I have to weigh less before I can love myself.

It has been a process for me learning to love my body in this life. My husband has always told me that in order to be willing to take care of my body I need to love it. Essentially to me, that means to be grateful for the gift that it is, and thanking God in prayer for it.

As I have become less active through a busy college life and then two pregnancies, my body has changed so much. I have become one of the ladies who looks back on her pictures and wonder why I felt “fat” when I was a teen, when I was indeed healthy. It has made me realize that sometime we focus so much on weight we forget about just being healthy.

I was so worried that others around me had tighter abs than I did, I had not really seen my body for what it was; a strong, able and mostly healthy gift. A gift that had been given to me with the hope that I would use it to serve others, enjoy life and gain strength through it. Mortality has become an opportunity to gain strength both physically and spiritually because of my body and in spite of it.

So, as I have gained some scars, skin and fat aside from the inability to sleep on one side of my body, knowledge that I will never have a medically unassisted birth, I have had to accept myself. When I never went into labor with my first and ended up with a c-section as a result of low fluid, I felt helpless. I didn’t feel like I had any control over my body.  I had gained quite a bit of weight during my pregnancy and formed very bad eating habits. My exercise levels were at an all time low. I struggled getting back into a healthy lifestyle while learning all there was about my new baby.

Soon after I had my second child and had gained more weight from that pregnancy. It turns out, my body doesn’t lose weight during nursing, as I’d expected. I was as unhealthy as I’d ever been.

I realized that I wanted a change, and I decided I would try the INSANITY workout program. I went through it almost completely 3 times. I was finally starting to feel like myself again. I could chase after my busy boys and I felt like I was making progress. In addition, I started making healthier eating choices. More vegetables, less processed foods and baked treats.

Every once in a while (because I don’t own a scale) we would be at my in-laws and I’d work up the courage to step onto the scale. I’d come out of the bathroom frustrated and angry. How could I have not lost any weight AT ALL! I was so discouraged that my hard work did not seem to be paying off. To top that off, I was asked several times if I was expecting. I tried not to let it bother me, but still struggled to love my body and desire change for myself.

I realized that my weight was not a defining factor in my health. I started thinking about the progress I had made, the things I could do now, that I couldn’t do a year ago. I decided to not allow a scale to tell me what my body is worth. I kept exercising and held onto my goal of doing a sprint-triathlon in summer 2014 after a six-year hiatus. I started looking for the muscle definition I was gaining and seeing the rest as more work to do. More time I needed to give to myself, because I loved my body and want to take care of it.

I have continued going to the gym and have an elliptical in my basement, for the days I can’t get out. I’ve signed up for the Sprint, Magrath Triathlon! I am excited to train for it. I am trying each day to make healthier lifestyle changes and look different in the mirror, but I have still not lost weight. Though I am always striving for a healthier me, I refuse to let it define my progress, health and beauty. I still have a hard time some days with the stretch marks plastered all over my torso, but they are fading, as is how much I hate them.

I may always struggle somewhat with my weight and trying not to let it define me, but I also am grateful for the reminder that I need to take care of my body and be healthier. I know that my health will increase along with healthy spiritual and emotional growth. That’s me, always more work to do, but I don’t need to punish myself for not being everything I want to be, because my body needs my unconditional love.  It is through that love that progress is made.

Myth: I have to do extreme diets and starve myself to lose weight.

As a young girl I was active and always had a very hearty appetite.  And even if my eyes were bigger than my stomach I ate what was on my plate. I remember my mom telling me that if I kept eating as much as my Dad it would eventually catch up with me. Well, I had no problem in high school as I played on the badminton team, joined my first fitness club and joined the high school swim team among walking to school in all kinds of Canadian weather.

 Then it was off to University and somehow the active lifestyle gets a little harder. I was busing all the way there, sitting in lectures and enjoying my newly found free time. Even though I decided to study food and nutrition the lessons in biology, chemistry, physiology and lots of other difficult subjects did not have me thinking about my diet.  So I kept eating as much as I wanted of mostly nutritious food and drinks. But as I now know, you can even overdo portions of proper nutritious food and drinks. 

In 2002, Brian and I had joined a fitness club opening near our home and as I started to get fitter I kept eating the same portions I always had and kept my body looking pretty much the same.  Then one day, after having a body fat assessment I was shocked at my result and realized that if I really wanted to see results from the exercise I also had to make a LIFESTYLE change in my diet.  I essentially decided that the time was right to make a change as I did not think it would get any easier after having children.  By eating consciously and lowering my portions so that I felt content instead of “stuffed” the results started to come.  I have always had a good balance of protein, carbohydrate and healthy fat and a diet rich in fruits and vegetables. I dropped approximately 24 pounds before becoming pregnant with my first child and knew that I added muscle mass as I was getting stronger. I participated in 10 and 21 k runs, did my first sprint and Olympic distance triathlons and did resistance training with free weights and machines.  I stayed active through all my pregnancies right until the end and actually ended up losing an additional 10 pounds between the last 2 pregnancies.

I found such a passion with fitness and nutrition I started my own bootcamp and nutrition business in 2010. I was very motivated to share my passion in order to help others achieve their goals.  Only 1 year into the business we had a fantastic opportunity to live in Malaysia.  So as life throws curve balls, the lifestyle I had for the last 7 years had to make a big readjustment.  You cannot go for a run any time of day as it HOT here.  And everywhere there is white rice, isn’t that a big no,no in healthy eating.  You don’t walk many places and it is an effort to drive somewhere to cycle etc.  You do have it made if you like swimming though! I did meet some runners that went out around 6 am so started running with them and went to the traditional gym.  Somehow, my body decided to put on 4 kg the first year here even though I did not think too much had changed.  I have to admit it bothered me at first but my mentality with the number on the scale has since changed completely.

Last year I experimented with the paleo diet for athletes which unlike the strict paleo diet includes sweet potatoes, pumpkin and other starchy vegetables for added carbohydrate.  I was already used to a diet high in fruits, vegetables and lean protein but did feel that I did not have enough available carbohydrate sources.  I was used to having in rice and other grains so I did not continue that very long as I often felt hungry and that options were limited, especially in rice happy Asia.  I have recently adopted a program called eat to perform which focuses on carbohydrate intake before and after workouts as well as later in the day, especially if you have a workout the next morning. The rest of the time the diet is focused on lean protein, healthy fats and vegetables and this is working very well for me and keeps me very satiated.

In 2012 I trained up to 12 hours per week for a duathlon event called Powerman and gained an incredible amount of endurance but definitely lost some strength (especially upper body).  Even with a 2^nd place result in my age group and my body weight dropping to “Pre Malaysia” standards I did not like that I lost strength as my belief is that fitness encompasses so much more than just endurance.  In 2013 the second Crossfit “Box” in Malaysia opened right across the street from my house and I knew I had to try it.  Crossfit combines, strength, flexibility, endurance, agility, gymnastics, Olympic lifting and everything under the fitness umbrella.  During my first 3 months I tried going 3 days a week. I thought these 10 to 25 minute WOD’s (Workouts of the Day) are killing the “fit” me. The more I went the better I got and the faster my strength went up.  My mentality about how I looked and what my weight was did not matter if my performance was improving.  I started to focus my mind and energy to what my body could achieve and as I added muscle mass and ate more to increase the amount of muscle I had, my weight has actually shifted down 2 kilos. But even if I was up 6 more kg and I could lift more or perform better, I do not care!   I am at a healthy and stable 147 pounds and certainly do not wish to drop any body weight from this as that would likely include lean mass.

I believe a consistent diet with emphasis on portion control and healthy foods over time will lead someone to the lifestyle which they can sustain for their entire life.

It has been quite the journey so far but I am by no means ready to stop living the lifestyle that keeps my physically and mentally ready to meet any life challenges that are thrown my way.  When you decide that you want to change your lifestyle YOU will know how and when the time is right J

Myth: The marks on my body from having children are ugly.

I debated whether or not to write on this topic because I don't want to be annoying, beating the same issue again.  But then I decided that this is the myth that I feel most strongly about at this stage of my life.  I figured if it carries the most meaning for me right now, then that meaning will come across in what I write, and hopefully be most meaningful to those reading.

I also don't mean for this to apply only to mothers because in life we all get 'marked'. Whether physically or emotionally, these marks become a part of who we are.  Difficult or challenging experiences, even the happy ones, leave us changed forever.  Marked.

The choice we have is how to view these "marks".

I can remember in my first pregnancy, my cousin mentioning how she had to buy all new jeans after being pregnant because her hips just weren't ever the same.  They were wider after.  Permanently wider.  Even after losing all the pregnancy weight.  "Hmmm....I thought.  That's interesting."  In my inexperience, I had never considered that pregnancy could change you forever. I had just thought I would return perfectly to who I was before.

And from the first pregnancy I mostly did, physically (although not from the second and third). But not emotionally. Nope, I was never going to be the same emotionally after bringing a child into the world and caring for that little baby and being challenged in ways I had never dreamt.  I became a little more mature but also a little more serious.  I think I lost some of the childlike lightness I had before.  Two years post partum, I was playing beach vball with my dad and brother and we were all joking around and having fun.  My sister, who was watching, made a comment about how she was glad to see "the old Kimmy".   I realized in that moment, that having a child had changed me.  Gradually I have brought back "lighter" pieces of myself that were a bit lost after Riley but the truth is, I'm the same Kim but also different.  My very personality has been marked by motherhood.

Then after Kyla I had physical marks.  Varicose veins haunted my pregnancy and remained afterwards.  My core reminded me of a balloon that had been blown up, twice.  That double stretch left the skin a bit loose and I now carried a bit of fat there, which I never had before.  It bothered me. Just as with the veins, I found myself looking down at that part of my body, often.  Wishing it would 'just go away'.

Third pregnancy has been similar to the second.  The veins have been a source of constant sadness to me, as I've watched new spider veins fail and grow dark in various spots.  I felt a bit helpless watching this.  I was wearing compression socks on days I knew I'd be standing lots but I had this sinking feeling that I'd probably be stuck with them no matter what.  There was also a nagging feeling that maybe I was doing something wrong.  Making them worse by some mistake I wasn't fully aware of.  Maybe my exercising was making them worse, I wondered.  But I wasn't willing to give that up.  Plus, the expert at the vein clinic said exercising often helps move the blood through, but I still doubted and wondered how to help my body.

These physical changes have been more challenging to me than the emotional ones.  With the emotional ones, I realized that the changes were 'enriching' me, rather than 'detracting' from who I am.  Giving me more empathy and compassion for others, allowing me to grow and change.  Because deep down I strongly believe that if I resist and resent change emotionally, then I am resenting growth.  And I love growth and change, emotionally that is.  Physically, not so much.  But shouldn't the same principles apply?  I think so;  I am enriched physically as I experience life and change because of it.  

So that has got me thinking.  Back when I was training for a full ironman, I was very inexperienced with clipless pedals and gear changes.  Like ridiculously and embarassingly inexperienced.  On hills, when my speed slowed, I often didn't gear down properly and ended up coming to a stop before I could unclip.  Yep, I fell over, many times.  I'm sure I was highly entertaining to the highway drivers passing by.  I ended up with cuts and bruises on my legs  And you know what the odd thing was, I loved them.  I loved that I now had marks on my body from doing something awesome.  I was training for an ironman and I now had marks to prove it.  So why is it any different with motherhood marks?

A moment that every ironman athlete looks forward to is when he or she gets to cross the finish line and hear the words of the announcer say, " (insert name) YOU...ARE..AN...IRONMAN!!!!  In that moment, it's like your months and countless hours of training are being recognized and appreciated and honored.  You are given a title.  A title that you will always have, even if you go home and get super, duper fat and unhealthy.  Jokes.  Many athletes get a trademark 'M' dot  tattoo on their calf.  A symbol to all for what they have done.

This same feeling of honor should be attributed to mothers.  Even when we may not feel we are honored by others, at times, we should give honor to ourselves.  Honor the sacred title, 'mother'.  Honor it by carrying our marks with grateful recognition that these are an external 'symbols' of the incredible thing we have done.

Perhaps we can also be mindful in how we talk to other women about their 'marks' or lack of 'marks'.  In a beautifully written email from an anonymous friend of mine:

Women are so competitive with each other. We all want to look like we "were never pregnant" at our first visit back to church with our newborns. Like the best compliment we can get from girlfriends is that we don't look like we were ever pregnant. "Oh congrats on the new baby! You look great! You look like you weren't even pregnant!" (that's an appropriate compliment?) I wish we could celebrate something else after giving birth like I don't know maybe the beautiful miracle of life you just created - and not compete with how other women "bounce back" after pregnancy and post on Facebook how soon we fit back into our "skinny" jeans. That kind of conversation with other women in my opinion almost creates unnecessary walls and or tension between the women who can bounce back and the women who can't or at least not as quickly.  I have made a point never to comment on a new mom's physical appearance but focus on her beautiful baby and or her wonderful mothering. It's one thing to be healthy and happy it's another to try to meet unrealistic standards set by comparing ourselves to others. "Comparison is the thief of Joy." Theodore Roosevelt. 

So in our conversations with others and even more importantly, the conversations we have in our own heads, I hope we can all give more honor to these marks.  Remembering that we came here to earth to be marked up.  To live.  To learn and grow and offer the world something good by the fruits of our lives, including children and all other good things we give the world.  Bringing life into this world is an amazing thing and to be marked up because of it is kinda special.

Beauty Myths Dispelled

Most of you probably know that I am passionate about helping women learn how to accept and care for their bodies in nourishing, healthy ways.  You may read the word 'accept' and think, "how can I accept this?" Said while picturing in your mind all the things you view as being imperfect, even ugly.  Acceptance doesn't mean you don't hope for and look forward to positive changes, both in how you feel and how you look.  Rather, it comes from a deeper understanding of your divine worth as a person, regardless of your body.  This acceptance whispers peacefully, "who I am right now, today, is good enough and even beautiful."

This acceptance or at least moving more towards this type of acceptance brings a cleaner form of motivation.  The motivation that says, "I'm going to take care of myself because I love myself."  Rather than, "I'm going to punish this ugly body until it turns into something better."  The latter motivation is like a dark tunnel with no light at the end.

Why do I feel so passionate about this cause?  Well, I've wondered that this morning, as I woke up before sunrise to feed my infant daughter.  As I nursed her in the quietness, I thought about how much I care about women.  I care about women and I care about the things they struggle with.  I have felt the struggle of feeling frustrated with my body and have written about it before.  Two years ago, a photo shoot with a good friend brought up some of my inner insecurities.  It gave me the painful opportunity to face them and try to bathe those insecurities in the light of truth, thus finding healing, which I also wrote about, through many tears.
 
I remember when I looked at that first photo from the shoot and saw so many flaws.  Ouch!  It hurt.  I think it unearthed the lie that had been lying somewhat dormant, buried deep.  A lie that said, "see look.  You really are ugly after all."  I don't know when that lie was planted.  Might have been in junior high when I was teased for my height and I felt so self conscious about being tall.  Might have been reinforced a bit on a shopping trip with girlfriends when I didn't fit into the trendy jeans the way they did.  Might have been some other time.  But what matters is that it is a lie.  It's always been a lie.  A painful lie.  One that's painful to look at and easier to bury.  The photo shoot brought it out in all it's fury.  I called a friend in tears, knowing that although my husband is kind and loving, I was going to need a woman's perspective on this one.

I can't even remember what my friend said but I know it was helpful.  It was a start to a process of true healing for me.  As I started this process, I realized that I wanted to help other women with their healing too.  That's why I started the beauty discussion on my blog.  I so appreciated the stories shared by other women.  As women, I believe we receive vital healing when we are honest and real and loving with each other.  

At that time,  I was preparing for a half ironman in Hawaii.  Please take note even though I was quite fit and lean at the time, I still wasn't completely accepting of my body.  Acceptance has more to do with what's going on inside, than what's going on outside.  I really believe that.

At 135 lbs I was pushing the lower limits of what is a healthy weight for my body.  I give you that number in hopes that it might be helpful.  Some of you might be thinking, "oh, that's really light."  Others of you might be thinking, "wow, that's quite heavy."   Adam said at that time that I looked a little gaunt in the cheeks.  I remember my father in law asking me how much I weigh, (yes, he's funny like that) and when I told him, he was so surprised.  He said, "really, I thought it would be a lot less." I took it as a compliment, because he knows I'm healthy and in his mind, a healthy woman weighs about 120 lbs.  We all tend to have such loaded perceptions about weight.  Loaded with so much judgement, the harshest of which we put on ourselves.

And now I find myself  in a different place in my life.

My body has gone through a lot of changes since then.  I gained a bit of healthy weight following the intense season of racing.  We were trying to get pregnant and so I chose not to sign up for any big races.  I did a marathon on a treadmill just before Christmas and a couple half marathons as well (relatively speaking these weren't major races compared to the long distance triathlons.)  And then the great news that I had waited for, I was pregnant.

As I experienced life growing inside me and watched my body change, I pondered on the marks of motherhood.  I often struggled emotionally, looking at my varicose veins but I learned and grew a bit from that struggle.  So I'm learning about beauty from a different angle and enjoying the ride.  Living life inevitably means that I am going to see changes to my body, whether that be from aging, having children, or other things.  These changes will challenge me in new ways, forcing me to find anew that peaceful place in my heart that says, "I am ok.  I am beautiful.  Even though my body is different, I am still me and that is always good enough."  I hope that with each stage I am able to find that place a little quicker than the last time.

I believe we find that peaceful place, in part, by dispelling myths!!

So that's what I want to do on my blog for awhile; DISPEL MYTHS.  

Women, teaching women, in honest and vulnerable ways.  Being real with each other.  Taking a myth and explaining from their perspective why it's just not true.  Helping to bathe each of our lies in the light of truth and see things more as they really are.  See the beauty in ourselves.

If you read this and think, "oh I have a beauty myth that I would love to write about",  please get in touch with me.  This isn't about being an expert on anything, it's just about being willing to be honest and real and share some things you've struggled with and then learned from.  In hopes that it will help someone else.

Highlights of the week.

Ivy has moved up a size diaper and mom has moved down a size.  Oh yeah!  Ivy is a size 1 now and mom has graduated to a panty liner.  This last stage of bleeding is such a tease.  It fools you into thinking you're done bleeding time and time again.

Adam and I hallucinate regularly.  Well, what I mean is, we both imagine that we hear Ivy crying at random times, when she's really not.  Did you know that at night, when you have a bit of a nose whistle, it sounds  just like a baby crying. No joke.

My sister says I should just give it up and be a total hippie.  My kids regularly point out that I'm "leaking" because I refuse to wear those stifling breast pads at home.  I follow "my intuition" with Ivy's feeding and sleeping schedule, which basically means I just don't feel like being tied down to any particular method.  Some days I don't even wear a bra.  It's awesome.

Did you know that it's common during the postpartum stage to sweat more at night, as your body gets rid of excess water and stuff?  So, I wake up sweaty, stinky and often drenched in milk.  Yes, I have always produced massive amounts of milk when I nurse and by morning it's spilling out of me.  Oh yes, I am a sight to behold.  Let me tell you, I love my morning shower.  Almost as much as I love my mattress pad that protects our precious king size mattress from being permanently scarred.

Ivy has started smiling and cooing.  At least I tell myself that it's "real" now buts it's hard to know for sure.


I am running about three times a week now.  Each week I run more and walk less.  I am amazed at how quickly it is building.  Don't worry, all you worriers out there, I'm still being careful.  I'm excited for when Ivy is ready for the chariot and we can run together during the day too.  I'm also working on strengthening up my core and building my posture back.  I do planks and stand on my Tzone machine while engaging my core.  It's coming.  It will take time but it's coming.  I'm trying to be patient and look at it as a chance to practice rehabilitation methods, just like you would after an injury.  This is what I tell myself when I look in the mirror and my midsection jiggles.

Ivy pees all the time when I change her diaper (I thought that was a baby boy thing, apparently not).  My startled scream often startles her and she stops peeing mid stream, giving me enough time to get the new diaper on.

To All Mothers.

I've been thinking lately about parenting "methods" and advice.  The newborn stage does that for me. I mean, these little two foot humans can be intimidating, even to the most confident parent.  Even with it being my third baby and Ivy having a generally mild temperament, there are still times I look at her and wonder, "what is it you want?"  In the night at 6am after being up for three hours, I ask that through tears.

Even worse than wondering what it is your child wants, is a deeper confusion that lies to you saying, "you've messed your child up.  You're doing something wrong."  Or, "if only you'd done this or that, then you and your child would be better off."  

Most nights Ivy sleeps 4-5 hours, is up for nursing, burping, diaper change and snuggles, then back to bed for another few hours.  So our nights have been fabulous!  But it only took one rough night for me to start to doubt my methods.  Thinking through the day and evening, trying to figure out what I might have done that caused this rough night.  

I think that's part of the problem.  The assumption that BECAUSE my child is having a hard time, I must have done something WRONG. 

I think of other moms I know and so many are bathed in feelings of self doubt, wondering if they are failing their children.  These are horrible feelings to carry and I don't believe these feelings come from God.  In my heart I feel and know that God honours mothers.  He so appreciates every sacrifice and effort that mothers make to bring children into the world and to raise those children.  And there are oh so many sacrifices!  He doesn't look down on me as I rock my precious daughter at 3am and think, "oh Kim, if only you had followed Baby Wise methods more precisely, you wouldn't be in this mess."  Rather I believe He looks at me with love and compassion.  As a new mother, still healing, giving so much of herself to care for her daughter, His daughter too.  I believe He looks at me with love and tenderness and gratitude for my willingness to care for one of His children and to be her mother.  He knows I am doing what I can.  And most importantly, He knows I love her and that is what matters most to Him.  I imagine He cares very little about whether I choose to follow this method or that.  Those methods are more for my sanity and have nothing of eternal significance in them.

But it's so easy to forget that.

It's far too easy to be judgemental and critical of ourselves and of each other.  Like Martha of the Bible who criticized her sister Mary, we often fall prey to thinking there's a right or wrong way to do things.  In very few cases, is there a right or wrong way that applies to each and every family, each and every mother, each and every child.  No, in most cases, there are just options and we all get to choose.  We get to try.  We get to learn and we get to try again.  The last thing we need is to be hard on ourselves or hard on each other.

So when you look at the mother with a child who is acting out, rather than thinking, "oh if only she would only do this or that", how about instead you extend her the same love and compassion that you yourself need in your own mothering.

To the mother with the crying baby or toddler in the night and to the mother with the older child who is having trouble at school or with his friends and to all mothers everywhere who feel at one point or another that you are or have somehow failed your child, I want to remind you of a loving Heavenly Father who is just grateful that you are trying.  Turn to Him in prayer with your doubts, with your questions and for the divine help you need because He certainly knows you need His help.  He knows you are not a perfect mother and that's ok.  He loves you and honours the sacred title you bear.  Be kind and gentle with yourself, always.

It's Quite A Stage.

As you probably know, we have a 6.5 year gap between Kyla and Ivy.  Yeah, so it's been awhile since we've done the whole newborn thing.  It's actually been a refreshing break.  Not that we exactly planned to have a big gap in our family but the way it's turned out has been a blessing.  Might as well make the best of what life offers you, right!

We feel like we've waited a long time for Ivy to come to us.  We had been praying for her to come, praying that we'd be prepared and praying that it would be a sweet and joyful experience.  We feel like these prayers have been answered.  So many blessings have been given to us by God, throughout my pregnancy, in Ivy's birth and in caring for her.  We chose to honor God by giving Ivy the middle name Grace.  To honor Him for all He has given us.

Even with all our gratitude, all these blessings, this stage is still wonderfully challenging.  

But we try to keep our sense of humor about it and that makes a big difference.

In the middle of the night when Ivy cries out Adam says, "master is calling."  Sometimes he adds, "master goat is calling" because her little newborn noises resemble a little goat.

Adam is such a baby whisperer and he always amazes me with this sixth sense he has with our babies.  Like last night, he was changing Ivy's diaper and she kept tucking her knees up.  So he pushed gently on her lower abdomen and she pushed back and out came fart after fart, squirt after squirt.  Pretty funny stuff at 3 AM, let me tell you.

We also have a bit more maturity this time around.  I am relaxed, even when she's not latching on well.  Or when we go to bed at night, I don't get anxious about how the night is going to go.  I just say in my head, "it will be what it will be."  Knowing that I'll get through it and another morning will come.  Funny how with a newborn, the sun rise almost feels like a finish line.

Riley still loves to watch me nurse Ivy.  The other day he was standing next to me, watching her, when he said out loud, "there is nothing in the world as cute as a baby girl, is there mom?"

I am healing up, emotionally and physically.  Feeling good.  Feeling myself.  I am so grateful to family and friends who have been there to support our family as we adjust to being a family of five.  THANK YOU!!!

I'm Running Again!

Do you have something you love to do so much that it feels like something deep within you comes to life when you do it?  Running is like that for me.  When I run I feel free, I feel strong, I feel happy and I feel alive.  I stopped running at 25 weeks pregnant because of some foot and hip discomfort.  It wasn't a hard choice to make, as I knew it was the best choice for my body and I knew that it was just for a stage.  I kept up my cardio fitness with spin, elliptical and stair machines.  I am such a huge fan of exercising during pregnancy, as I've done it for all three pregnancies.  It takes some wisdom and good judgement to know what is right for your body but it certainly has helped me physically and emotionally to have overall positive pregnancies.

But now that my body is my own (kind of) I am excited to get back into running.

The first couple weeks my focus was on rest, recovery and healing.  With lots of support from Adam, I was able to take it easy, as he took over the housework and cooking.  I went for some walks here and there and tried to remind my body about posture and holding my core strong...not easy after being pregnant.  It's a work in progress.

So this week I decided it was time to try out running.

It's all about finding the right training buddies right?!?  Others that have a similar fitness level, who are as fast or just a bit faster than you are.  Well, I've found them; my 7 month pregnant friend, my 55 year old dad and my 6 and 8 year old kids.  

Last week I went for a long walk with my friend.  It ended up being 2 hours long because we wandered around wal mart picking up some things.  When we got home and she was saying goodbye, I said, "we should do this again next week."  To which she responded, "yeah, and maybe next time we could go a bit faster."  I realized then that she had been going slow for me because I had just had a baby and I had been going slow for her because she's pregnant.  How considerate of us.

Monday my parents came over for the afternoon.  My mom, to hang out at the house with Ivy and my dad, to go for my first run with me.  They are planning to do this every week for awhile, for which I am so grateful.  We went out for 30 minutes;  run 1 min, walk 1 min.  Felt great, other than making me more aware of my need to strengthen up my lower abdominals.  We were slow but who cares.  It just felt so good to move my body that way again

Tuesday I felt good from my run, just a little sore in the quads, so I decided to head out for a short "training run" with my kids.  I asked them if they wanted to train together for a race this summer.  Probably just a 5 km race.  I thought I would do it with Riley but Kyla was eager to join in too, so we'll see how that goes and give it a try.  It's really a win-win situation because now that Adam is back at work this week, he comes home pretty tired from a long day.  He gets to cat nap with Ivy on the couch while I meet my needs and take the older kids out for some fresh air and exercise.  I plan on doing this several nights a week.

Running with my kids is hilarious.  I mean, they are kids, so they do kid stuff.  Like putting their arms in their coats and while laughing they explain, "look at me, I'm a running stump!"  They are also so sporatic with their pace, sprinting up ahead, jumping off snow piles and stuff like that.  I really do love spending time with them this way because I'm sharing with them something I love to do.  We have fun, I teach them a bit about running form and pacing and we laugh and talk about other things.   Some of my favorite memories with my dad are exercising together and I hope it will be the same for my kids and me.

Oh and little miss Ivy is growing.  I'm trying to savor up this stage and enjoy her as much as possible.