You’d think an event as great as Birth would be mental preparation enough for any other form of physical exertion in your life.
No matter how much you try to channel your inner Lance Armstrong, there’s just no distracting from the fact that every single muscle in your post-prego body is now asleep; hibernating from the nine months of sitting on your jack and not doing very much at all.
I finally hit the trail after almost a year-long hiatus – my last ride being Melbourne’s Lysterfield Park last July – and boy, was it a wake-up call. I may have already lost over half of the 18 kilos that I put on during pregnancy but it sure didn’t feel like it at all.
My legs were weak as I spent most of my time climbing in granny and what would have been short climbs felt like forever. I would heave myself up and then spend the next two minutes or so trying to recover. At one point, I just let out a huge unabandoned groan and the husband couldn’t help but laugh.
The ride was a good two and a half hours long, with me near enough bonking at the petrol station where we stopped to get our bikes washed. Thank goodness Hubba had some cash on him, which I just had to nick for a shot of sugar, Mini Oreo cookie style. Saviour.
Oh, random thought. Bike shorts and episiotomy scar on a bumpy ride make for very odd sensations. Best to stand up and peddle!
Ah well. All in all, it was a good first ride and it sure felt great being back on the saddle!