I’m not talking miles here, and I’m not writing about kilometres either. It’s about push-ups, full-body, nose-to-the ground push-ups. Years ago, when I taught aerobics, I did them all the time. Once I got into running, I did 5 sets of 8 every other day – until the boys arrived. I was able to get back into that regime after #1 but with #2, my dedication went down and never came back up.
One day last summer, I glanced in the mirror and realized that my upper body was surprisingly in really good shape. I could only attribute that to being a mom as I was constantly picking up my youngest cling-on: at day-care drop-offs, through a parking lot, from the kitchen to bath…. Looking back, the list seems endless. Other times, I worked on my upper body by pushing my 35 pounder in the baby jogger. At the end of the summer, I panicked about needing to develop some upper body strength over the winter as my baby jogger days seemed to be coming to an end. The need to get back to push-ups and dips was becoming obvious. But, life got in the way and that never happened.
Yesterday, when #2 was in his jogger for the first time in a few months, I honestly didn’t notice him being any harder to push than last year, even running into the wind. So, it looks like I may have another full season of baby jogger/core/strength training ahead of me, and that is great.
However, tonight, while on my windtrainer, #2 happily bounced in to “be alone”. He sat down behind me and quietly read his new Superhero books. Well, he must have sent me some of his superpower love because after stretching, I looked at him and announced, “I’m going to do something I haven’t done in years. Do you want to watch?”
And, then, it happened. I went down and back up 15 times – not all of the way down, mind you, but respectably, flat back, tummy in, arms-doing-the-work down. I rested and did 12 more. Now, I’m not sure how impressed #2 was but he rewarded me with a plastic pancake and syrup from his kitchen. Life continues to be good.