On the first day of Stroller Strength, I strapped my four-month-old daughter into her stroller and placed eight-pound dumbbells in the storage area for added challenge.
I felt out-of-shape and doughy, like I was plodding through my days of stay-at-home momdom. I wanted to feel light, energetic, and fit again. In a lucky break, a fellow mom in my neighborhood was teaching “Stroller Strength,” a mom-and-baby exercise class, at a park less than a mile from my house. (Similar classes marketed as StrollerStrides and under the generic names, “stroller fitness” and “stroller workouts” may be found anywhere there are moms and babies. Search through Google, or call your local gym.)
Before I adopted my daughter, Celia, I was in fantastic shape. Well, fantastic for me. I worked out every morning, doing cardio workouts and strength-training at home. At night, I walked my dogs up to two miles. I had firm abs—my husband even said so. I had endurance for the first time in my life.
But after Celia came home, my priorities shifted. I hoped Stroller Strength would help me find the balance that is so elusive when you’re raising a child and trying to take care of yourself.
By the time I got to class, I was already huffing and puffing. Our instructor, Jessica Covington, arrived with her son, who was just a little younger than Celia. Jessica runs a corporate wellness company called FIT-ology and is also finding her way as a first-time mom. Other mothers showed up, and after signing in, we warmed up while our babies hung out in their strollers. Then, we left the park and headed out into the neighborhood.
What a sight, eight women power walking while pushing strollers. We arrived at the lake, and Jessica led us in toning exercises. She had ordered bands for resistance, but they hadn’t come in yet. I pulled out my dumbbells and began working my weak muscles back into shape. From the lake, we turned and headed up Heartbreak Hill, the steepest hill in our notoriously hilly neighborhood.
I thought I was going to have to abandon my weights, otherwise I wouldn’t make it to the top. My calves were burning and my lungs were begging for mercy. How did I let myself get this out of shape? Yes, taking care of a baby is draining, but I was out of the full-time workforce, and I had my mother to provide childcare whenever I needed. I was mad at myself for undoing all that hard work.
I’m not the first mom to feel this way. But most new moms can at least attribute their softer-than-before stomachs to childbirth. As an adoptive parent, I couldn’t claim that excuse, though I was tempted to sign up for a post-natal Pilates class called “Ab Recovery.”
I didn’t think Stroller Strength, which met twice a week, could resolve all my fitness flaws. But it was a place to start. And, as it turned out, a fun place to start. I loved chatting with the moms and checking out their babies. Amanda and Clara, Ashley and Anna, Lynn and Kate, Tarsha and Layla, Jessica and Townes.
As we walked, we swapped strategies for feeding our babies and getting them to sleep. We talked about the torture of immunizations and the anxiety of hiring a babysitter for the first time.
Sometimes our babies got fussy. Once Celia cried so uncharacteristically hard I thought she was sick. I couldn’t figure out what the problem was. I kept walking and she soon fell fast asleep. When she woke up, she was fine.
Those were the olden days when she slept through most of the workout. These days she’s wide awake for the whole hour-long class, as well as the half hour we spend going to and from home. She loves the fresh air and on days when she gets a lot of it, she naps hard in the afternoon.
