Bikes and Babies

Five years in Colorado, three triathlons, one baby and a multi year-long pandemic later, I finally purchased my first road bike.

During my first triathlon, I rode a 1980’s road bike that was a hand-me-down from my father-in-law. I loved it, but I rode it to its death and it could no longer carry me through the hours of training that I needed it to.

My second and third triathlon, I used my sister-in-law’s Trek bike which was amazing, but eventually it had to return home. This meant one thing: it was time to buy my own bike.

So at the beginning of April of this year, I did just that.

I briefly thought about writing a how-to on purchasing a road bike for the first time, but then I realized my “process” could be summed up in three bullet points, and looked like this:

• Scour Facebook marketplace for a decent looking road bike under $1,000.
• Bike must be from a reputable brand (to me that meant Specialized, Cannondale or Trek)
• Fit my 5’8 frame (so about 54cms).

I didn’t think too much about it beyond that, I was just eager to get a bike so I could start riding more as the weather got nicer. I’m clearly not the person to turn to if you want to make a well researched decision on a bike, and I suppose we’ll see how much I regret that attitude once I am on the bike for hours at a time.

But, it’s not too much of a concern at the moment. As it turns out, it’s going to be a long time before I can start logging miles and get back into my training groove anyway. About nine months to be exact.

A week after I purchased the bike, I got a positive pregnancy test.

Our new family member is due to arrive in late December. I’ve spent the first trimester of my pregnancy so sick that I haven’t been able to think about moving my body, much less riding a bike.

So what does this all mean for my new bike, my triathlon future, my training, my Colorado adventure spirit, writing in this blog?

I honestly don’t know. I started this right before I got pregnant with Finn, with big hopes to write about all things Colorado life, and well, we can all see how that played out.

I now feel like a completely different person than I was pre-pandemic + baby, and I’m still trying to figure out who that person is.

Somehow this person:

Is the same as this person:

Enter in another new baby and even this current in-flux version of me will probably become unrecognizable.

I may not know exactly who I am anymore, but I feel strongly that my triathlon days are not behind me. My hope is that I can slowly (VERY slowly) start training again, somewhere around 6 months after new baby is born, and write about that experience here.

Of course it will depend on how my postpartum experience goes – I’m not so naive as to put any kind of pressure on my future postpartum self who is a tired and recovering mom of two. She’ll have enough on her plate.

But I’ll still plant the seed for myself now, because I know how much I love it. I can already anticipate how incredible it might feel to accomplish my first triathlon after the physical and emotional weight of these past few years.

So we’ll put a pin in that for now, and instead I’ll shift my focus to a different kind of training. The work of growing a life, of preparing to become a mom again. To face the brutal fourth trimester-this time with the added responsibility of a toddler.

And for now, my new bike will serve as a reminder that everything in life is a stage, a never ending wave of ups and downs and in-betweens.

One day in the not-too-far-off future I’ll be sleep deprived, overwhelmed, happy yet delirious, and probably feel a little lost in my role of a working mom of two. But before I know it, that stage will be gone, too.

Before I know what happened, I’ll be riding that bike I bought on a whim one day. There will be mountains ahead of me and music pumping in my ears, and I’ll remember where I am sitting right now, when it seemed an entire universe stood between me and that moment.

It helps to remind me there no need to wish any of this time away, or mourn any other version of myself. She’s always there. My babies will grow faster than I can keep up with, and my new bike will be there waiting, a promise of time that will eventually come.