July 12, 2015
I am a lucky bastard: I met my wife Lillie on a velodrome and she will always say yes to my cycling adventures. Most of the time she will be on the bike riding with me and will either be the model or the author of our pictures. Bike time often means ‘us’ time in our household.
Now Lillie is pregnant and we are over the moon. Life will soon change for the better – and it has in fact already started. Will this mean lesss cycling for us? Not sure. Inspired by a recent article, Lillie shares her experience so far in this guest blog post, as edited and published on June 26, 2015 in Ella Cyclingtips.
“Riding a bike while pregnant is awesome!”
I never thought those words could come out of my mouth. We often think that pregnancy and sport are like oil and vinegar -they just don’t mix. I’m well into my fifth month of pregnancy, and I’ve learned that nothing could be further from the truth. Riding my bike while pregnant hasn’t just been possible –it’s been a delicious experience. I am dreading the day that I have to hang up my road bike for the season. Until then, I will continue to soak up every simple pleasure that pregnant riding has given me.
I’ve come to realize that my aspirations to accomplish big riding achievements do not necessarily need to be temporarily restricted, they simply need to be taken down a notch or two. Can I ride an epic Swiss 200 kilometre tour in a single day? Well, probably not, unless I want to ride into the night at “pregnancy pace.” But can I climb Mont Ventoux when I, by chance, happen to be spending a few days in southern France? Abso-freakin-lutely!
Climbing is in my genes, and in Alain’s too. So we decided to ride, the three of us, to the top of the Giant of Provence starting from the ‘easy’ side in Sault.
Alain is training for the Transcontinental Race this summer in addition to studying for his MBA and starting a new job. This means his training schedule is quite tight, and spending all day riding at pregnancy pace is typically not high on his priority list. But this weekend was different. We were on mini-vacation. So we spent two days riding as a family -laughing, taking pictures, and discovering this beautiful part of the world together.
I think Alain was shocked, as often I am too, by how much I can still do. Since I never stopped doing sport, my base fitness is still very much there, in the shadows, ready to attack at any moment. Riding at slower pace means I can ride almost tirelessly. And these rides were very different than the rides I normally do with my husband. This time, Alain wasn’t yelling at me to push harder, which I admittedly love under difference circumstances as it gives me that extra boost to beat my best time. Plus I wasn’t over-tired, and therefore wasn’t whining and bitching at him about having to stop every 10 minutes and re-trace our route on the same road so he could get the ultimate picture.
We must have stopped a dozen times for pictures heading up Mont Ventoux. And the whole time, we were laughing, chatting with passing cyclists, and enjoying every moment of the ambience of solidarity with hundreds of other riders: young, old, fit, unfit, racers, touring cyclist, all on their pilgrimage to the summit. When we finished the ride after a brilliant descent, I honestly wanted to do it all over again. But then again, there was ice cream calling in Bédoin.
Here’s what makes pregnant riding so awesome:
1. There’s no need to make excuses for being slow
You know when you are having a bad day on the bike? Maybe you’re too stressed, or you haven’t had much training, or your legs aren’t cooperating with the planned programme. Those days are usually full of excuses. We apologise when our friends have to wait for us at the top. We feel guilty, angry or frustrated for not performing at our max. It’s not much fun, is it?
When you’re pregnant there is no need to apologise for anything. You’re pregnant and you’re riding a bike. People think you’re a superhero!
You can ride as slow or fast as you want, and no one would dare complain about waiting up for the pregnant girl at the top of the hill. In fact, everyone encourages you, rides with you and chats with you. They will even give you extra bum pushes up hill (bum pushes up Mt. Ventoux will be neither confirmed nor denied).
I’ve spent more time riding and chatting with my close bike buddies while I’ve been pregnant than when I was not. Maybe they are just using me as an excuse to ride slow when they are not feeling up to race pace. Whatever the reason, it’s all good times.
2. Guilt free ice cream rides
I LOVE ICE CREAM. We are lucky to live near places filled with artisanal ice cream shops. I have been known to extend a ride by kilometres in search of the best ice cream shop. Stopping for ice cream twice on a ride is totally acceptable. In fact, it’s practically a requirement when riding in Italy. I have been known to eat ice cream before noon, after a balanced breakfast of course. And did all this before I was pregnant.
Now I have to admit, even with all the riding I was doing, I’d still feel a little guilty about all the ice cream I was eating. I’d think to myself: “if only I hadn’t had that extra ice cream stop, maybe I could lose that magic kilo to make me faster up my local climb.”
During pregnancy, the guilt is gone! I haven’t really changed my eating habits, which is to say, I’m not doing the whole ‘eating for two thing’, but now I know that if my body gains weight, it’s because it’s meant to. And as long as I’m riding my bike, I know my body is working as it should to process the calories it needs for both me and baby.
This means I keep my bum trim as my belly grows, with all the ice cream stops that I want. How great is that? I believe I tested no less than five difference ice cream shops in the three days I was in Provence. Given all the taste-testing, I can confidently recommend caramel au beurre salé whilst visiting French ice cream shops.
3. Added stability
When I upgraded to my light carbon bike, I noticed immediately that my descent speeds had reduced. Being a lightweight rider on a light bike completely changed the bike handling. Before I was a roadie nut, I was a car nut. I used to compete, so I know a lot about traction and the physics of the optimal line. This has left me a bit frustrated by the lack of stability on my bike.
Admittedly, I do feel a slight panic being 64 kilograms and growing. I’m quickly closing in on my husband in weight. Normally weighing in at 56 kilograms, it’s relatively easy for me to climb mountains. Yes, going up Mont Ventoux was hard. I think it would have been hard at 56 kilograms. But since I’m pregnant, I don’t have to be fast (see point 1), so the weight going up doesn’t really matter.
But the weight going down is nothing short of amazing! Descents are absolutely awesome. I can accelerate like a race car. And cross winds, like we had at Mont Ventoux, no longer push me around like a rag doll. Who knew that a few extra kilos could make riding in difficult conditions easier? I have confidence in the bike that I never had before.
4. A seat with a view
Head down, breathing hard, delirious from effort, chasing the wheel in front -none of this is happening now. It’s physically impossible with the growing belly. Fortunately, I never cut my head tube, so I moved my handle bars as high as possible around month four. This way I don’t knee the baby with every rotation, and he no longer retaliates by kicking me in the bladder. Currently, I’m sitting up high and enjoying the new point of view -and it is truly takes my breath away.
5. A new appreciation for life
I don’t have any races coming up. No ultra sportive over gigantic mountain passes. No absolute necessity to ride. When I ride now, it’s because I love to ride. And as I ride for hours along the calm winding roads of the region where I live, surrounded by vibrant life, I can’t help but feel humbled.
Sometimes I’m on my bike, talking with Fausto (my husband’s nickname for the little one), sharing with him all the wonders I see as I ride, and I can’t help but feel ecstatic. I am so lucky that I am healthy, luckier still that I can ride a bike, and sometimes all that gratitude makes me want to scream out: “thank you for this moment.”
We are given one chance on this planet, and I’m a firm believer in embracing this only opportunity. I refuse to let fear get in the way of doing one of the activities that gives me so much satisfaction. Riding keeps me healthy and happy, removes stress in my daily life, and allows me to be the best person, and therefore the best mother, that I can be.
A picture gallery of our Ventoux mission
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