I was an athlete for a long time before I became a mom. As I said in my first post of this series, I really don’t remember a time in my life before I played sports, and I started considering myself an athlete probably in middle school, like 8th grade. I was 13. I had my first son at age 31, almost 32, so that’s at least 18 years, versus the almost 4 I’ve been a mom. It’s not a switch that can be turned off. Hence the multiple transition posts, see? 

I started noticing recently that when I do athletic things like run (or row especially), I kind of mentally transport back to the athlete mindset. For my workouts, this is a very good thing. Athlete-me is tough and has endurance. Mom-me overthinks everything and worries about screen time. But Athlete-me was younger and had fewer responsibilities. She could let a half-hour workout turn into an hour-long one because she was really feeling it. She could stretch for 45 minutes after she was done without anyone wondering where she was. She could spend the hour after that icing and foam rolling and doing the smart recovery things athletes tend to do. Now, if the whole ordeal takes more than 45 minutes from start to finish, someone else is going to suffer for it. Usually, that person is my husband, who is very supportive but also has to work from home and can’t if he’s watching 2 kids. Eventually, my kids will be in school, and there will be more flexibility, but by then, holy sh*t, I’ll be 40. Not trying to alienate readers here. That number just seems to carry some weight. 

Other parts of the athlete mindset for me are just outright childish. I still avoid stepping on cracks when I run. Or I actually have to tell myself that there’s nothing wrong with stepping on cracks, and then I congratulate myself on my grown-upness for being willing to step on said cracks. I know this is weird. I know it as I’m thinking about it during the run. It’s just deeply ingrained.

Plus, I am disgusting. I burp and fart and spit while running. I usually make sure no one else is around. I can’t imagine NOT doing these things during exercise, to be honest (and as gross as it sounds), because sometimes running churns things up. What? Too much? Well, I’m guessing it’s fairly common behavior among athletes, male or female. It’s also not behavior I encourage in my boys. This is an internal conflict between Mom-me and Athlete-me. 

Right now, Athlete-me and Mom-me are kept very separate. There’s no need for these 2 parts of me to be activated at the same time so far. I put on my running clothes and shoes, grab my headphones, and give my older son a quick hug before I head out the back door for a jog. Then I’m gone and the mom part can rest while the athlete takes over. I can be gross and silly and not responsible for anyone for a short time before I come back to the present. 

Eventually, though, I want my sons to see the athlete part of me. I want them to know this part of me and accept that women can be athletes and can be good at sports. I want that to be so normal to them that I never really need to explain it. I want to bring them along for short runs, and then leave them back at home while I finish the rest of my workout, so that their goal becomes to one day be able to finish a whole run with me. With their mom. The athlete.