I like to be active. Tennis, snowboarding, running, hiking, walking the dog, you name it. Just keep me moving.
About two years B.E. (Before Elliott), I discovered CrossFit. It was like we were made for each other. A workout that always changes, challenges me everyday, and I get to do it with new friends? Sold. I remember when I came home after the free Saturday class at CrossFit Verve, exhausted and excited, telling Peter about what I had just done at about a million words per minute. I was sore for the next week, but I didn’t care. CrossFit was awesome.
Fast forward about a year and a half, having bagged PR after PR, lifting more than I ever thought my chicken arms and legs could ever lift, fully addicted to the endorphins and community that CrossFit provides. Then I got pregnant. I kept it a secret from the folks at the gym well into my second trimester. It wasn’t until bench press showed up on the board that I let the cat out of the bag. I had read something on the Internet about laying on your back and weights in the second tri being bad for baby, blah. The interwebz are full of so many crazy things, but I was concerned, so I ran over to one of the trainers and told them my situation. They were respectful and handed me a modification — the first of MANY modifications I would learn to use. Over the next months I carried on, doing WOD after WOD highly modified, until about four days before E was born. All of the trainers were fantastic the whole time, making sure kept my heart rate where it should be and only doing movements that were safe and comfortable. I fully credit CrossFit for keeping me calm during my pregnancy.
That’s what a push up looks like when you’re very pregnant.
I know this sounds crazy, but I was ready to be back in the gym about two weeks after giving birth. Having a baby was SO much sitting and staring and repetition. All things I’m not very good at doing. I didn’t make it back for six weeks, waiting to be cleared by my doctor. My first WOD back had a barbell movement. Keep in mind, I hadn’t used a barbell in MONTHS since the giant belly makes it kind of hard to do. I casually walked over to the rack, picked up the 35 lb bar, and almost dropped it. It felt like I had just picked up 100 lbs. What was happening? I did way more weight than that when I was pregnant. Turns out, working out after baby is HARD. You’re constantly tired, your back hurts, weird things pop, you have no core muscles to speak of. Your mind remembers what you used to be able to do, but your body just won’t do it. Frustrating is kind of an understatement.
However, it’s hard to be frustrated for too long when you have such amazing people around you. Every time I step foot into Verve, I have friends who say hello. Who ask me how I’m doing and how E is doing. They congratulate me for working out, and they respect my limitations, helping me find ways to get stronger that make sense for me. It’s a support system that I missed terribly and am so thankful to have back.
So, as my friend Britta so wisely put it, those things that I built for myself that I had started to take for granted, well, they feel just that much sweeter as I start to reclaim them. I mean, I’m able to go to the gym now! The other day, I did a modified handstand pushup, and I hadn’t even done a handstand in over six months! As far as all my old PRs go, I’ve pretty much wiped the slate clean. Because for me these days, a personal record is simply making it there, and the joy that I feel at being able to slowly get back all the things from my old life that I had lost.
Adorable photo of my baby just because.
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