I have a resistance trainer that I love with all of my heart. The best bit is we grow together. The trainer gets bigger and I get stronger. And though I didn’t buy my trainer at a store, he is absolutely priceless. He is now three years old and weighs close to thirty pounds but that is not how the story begins. It begins six weeks after his birth.
I was given the go ahead to exercise after the requisite six weeks rest that comes after delivery. The first thing I did after arriving home was to strap my little resistance trainer into our new jog stroller and head out for my first three mile run since I found out I was pregnant. The first run, as they say, was the hardest. Three miles took thirty six minutes and it took everything I had to make it through even at that pace.
Over the years, I have gotten faster and stronger as Zane has grown taller and heavier. In the first year I wore headphones and even as I built my time on the road to almost two hours, he slept through almost every run. I have since trained for three marathons using the jog stroller and my growing resistance trainer. During that time, Zane stopped sleeping and started pointing out trees, dogs, and cars along the way, learning new words as I pushed my way past my earlier limits.
It has been my hope with all of my children that they would see me as more than just the person who feeds and bathes them – that they would also see me as an athlete. My older children have had the benefit of seeing me train and finish marathons. They have seen the work that goes into my quest to be an athlete and they have grown to think of me in those terms.
I knew that one day Zane would see this too, but I was surprised by how fast that happened. During a recent run I was pushing my way up a hill as Zane sat in his stroller chattering away about the world going by. Suddenly he stopped for just the shortest second and said to me, “Mommy, I am getting bigger and bigger.” The funny thing was this came at a particularly hard part of my run. I had been giving it my all to push his thirty pounds up a steep incline and though I thought I had no breath left to give I answered, “Yes, sweetie, you are. And you are getting heavier and heavier.”
He did his quiet thing for a couple of more seconds and came back with a reply I will cherish for the rest of my life. In his serious little voice he said, “But you are a very strong mommy, Mommy.” You can bet your bottom dollar that I made it up that hill without walking, and the rest of the run went by faster than I thought possible. Suddenly, my little resistance trainer had become my little motivator. And as I said before, I love my resistance trainer with all my heart.