Resurrection Blog

Welcome Jack - few minutes after delivery.

Lauren here. Much has happened since I last blogged about the qualities of the croc sandal in my highly pregnant state. Jackson “Jack” Lovell Pataky arrived on October 22nd and since that time we've changed a multitude of diapers and spent countless hours at night not sleeping. I gladly embrace no sleep and dirty diapers to hang out with this little dude, though. Watching him change and grow every day has been awesome and scary, as he is pretty much a blank slate and I feel if I do not spend 100 hours per day with him doing developmental activities he might grow up and not read or fail to develop gross motor skills or some other unspeakable thing.

The first few months he pretty much did nothing but lie around and sleep. At 4 months, however, he has hit his Pataky stride and is constantly moving, kicking, babbling, etc... This guy definitely has some energy! He just turned 6 months old and is now busy spitting out rice cereal, pulling Ronin and Shamwa’s tails and making screeching sounds. Clearly he is his father’s son.

Along with a new child comes new “furniture.” We have amassed countless large pieces of primary colored plastic marketed to entertain and help children develop. These heirloom pieces have almost surpassed the current bike count in our garage. I’m always amazed that the possessions of a sub 3 foot child can take up so much room in our house!

Anyway, this is a triathlon blog so I might as well discuss some triathlon.

I had this unrealistic dream goal that I'd pop out Jack and be back to full on training within a month. Nope. Didn't happen. FIRST, I wish I had listened to what people told me about the aftermath of pregnancy. I assumed I was impervious to any negative effects of pregnancy, as if I was more special than all the other billion mothers out there. My body felt like it had fallen off a cliff. I was not able swim, bike, or run for 5 weeks but did get the clearance to walk…. And WALK I DID. On Jack's 7th day of life he did a 7 mile walk in the ironbomber stroller. Matt complained that by 4 weeks post pregnancy I had worn down the tread on the stroller wheels. I'm also happy to report that I beat out all the other stroller pushers in my hood. Similar to my biking mentality (which I'm not proud of), I do not like being passed while walking. Jack and I are walking WINNERS, I tell you.

This photo sums up my nights for the first few months.

First trek to mountain lion territory.

Walking quickly moved into "jogging" which moved into running which then devolved into no more running as my ligaments decided that they were not ready to hold up their end of the bargain. After countless chiro/art/massage appointments I THINK I'm finally able to put in some real run training. You can't miss me running down the block now. I'm the girl with 100 yards of rocktape mummifying my body!

While in my early stages of pregnancy, I spent some time on my mountain bike, so naturally I felt like I was ready to tear it up mountain biking post pregnancy. I’ve learned, however, that I am faster ascending a hill than descending, as one day I was passed by a girl wearing a hello kitty helmet descending some 180ish degree turns. No joke. I thought that incident might embarrass me to descend faster.

I threw my hat in the XTERRA ring in mid April and raced the XTERRA West Champs. Might as well go all out with my first pro race back, right? I quickly learned that I do not excel in hurling my body over cliffs and flying down the backs of boulders, rock gardens, and deep sand traps. I spent more time in that race on the ground in various contorted positions then I did actually riding my bike. By the time I got to the run I decided to call this disaster a training day and just limped it in to bank some racing fitness. I quickly thereafter high-tailed it back to the road and hope to be racing soon. I did hone my T3 skills at this race, as immediately afterwards Jack was thrust into my outstretched arms to be nursed. No rest for the weary!

All kidding aside, I have days where I find myself thinking I’ll never be competitive again. There are times when I’ve been up for the 10^th day in a row at 4am and wondering if I’ll ever get sleep. I also have glimpses of my former self, however, so we'll just see how my body responds to training. I cannot expect to miraculously get back to my former shape without putting in the hours suffering. When I do get down about such things, all I need to do is look 3 feet left of my bike trainer where Jack is busy doing tummy time and looking up at me. He is my relatively silent motivation: "Mom - if you are not going to go give it your all, then why are you doing wasting your time messing around on that trainer. Come play with me!" This, and the fact that I pay 25 cents/minute to a sitter/nanny when I’m training outside is motivation to not squander any training opportunity

Regardless of how I perform, I want to be able to demonstrate to Jack the importance of being healthy, doing hard work, and setting goals and how this is preferable to sitting on one’s ass playing "sports" via video games. Jack has already had a few swim lessons and is well on his way to swimming in the fast lane at Stanford masters. 

Anyway, Team Pataky is truly blessed to have Jack as our new addition and can’t imagine life without him. See you at the races!

Family - minus Shamwa who is off sulking.

Good times with Dad.

First peas.

This is what happen when you leave your child unattended with a 12 year old.

J for Jack.

Super Bowl Sunday.

First swim lesson - NO EXCUSES!

Grandparents, tired-looking parents, and Jack.

First Ferrari outfit...big Alonso fan here.

Jack with his Great Grandfather Lovell and the other astronauts at my Grandad's 85th birthday.

RESET

The past three weeks have been rather crappy with long and stressful work hours, an uncooperative foot, and other random stuff. After Wildflower I was all ready to get back to training hard and getting faster but am still having some trouble with my foot. In addition, I took on a ton of new responsibility at work, which is good in theory, but requires that I bust out my sales personality and sell stuff. I am NOT a salesperson. I was passed over for the sales gene. I was the person that had I been a Girl Scout, I would have been last place in the cookie sales contest. My parents would have felt so bad that they would have bought all my cookies, which, come to think of it, is probably why they never let me enlist in the scouts. Anyway, all this to say, I've been under some major stress.


I am an all or nothing person and when one thing is going bad for me (the foot) I typically feel like my life is over. I dwell on things endlessly and obsess about how I'm going to get fat because I can't train or whatever. Currently, I'm in the process of seeing every type of doctor/healer/specialist known to man, but all of this narcissistic fervor has really just made things worse. After training yesterday I decided that I had to do something about my attitude. I needed to reset myself and to do that I had to go to my reset place - Monterey, the land of the newly wed, nearly dead, and home to some really cool people as well.

I lived in Monterey for 4 years during grad school (international policy) and then worked for the government there afterwards. As cheesy as this sounds, Monterey is the place where I grew up mentally, emotionally, spiritually, relationally, and athletically. Every time I go back I am reminded of who I was and what I've become. I'm reminded that there is more to life than worrying about my stupid foot. In the bigger scheme of things, my foot is much less important than genocide in the Sudan, the ridiculous state of education in the world, failed states, innocent civilians and soldiers dying in necessary and unnecessary conflicts, and other problems.

Today, I drove down to Monterey and did a killer ride with my friend Alexis. What I "really" love about Monterey is the never ending HEADWINDS, TOURISTS, and FOG! We headed on our normal ride out to Pebble Beach and then into Carmel Valley, up and over Laureles grade, and then out 68 to Reservation road just because we needed more headwind. The fog and headwinds never let up but at the end of our ride, I felt recharged and happy again. I first learned to ride out here on my old school road bike and remember attempting to draft off Matt's back wheel - yelling at him every 2 minutes as he was dropping me. I might have even cried once. Thankfully I did not have a power meter at that point in my athletic career.



Here is a beautiful picture of the scenery. Alexis is right ahead of me here.

Another beautiful sight.

After dodging the droves of tourists sporting Monterey Bay sweatshirts and standing in line for the aquarium, I met up with another friend Jamie for lunch and then headed back to the sunny bay area where I found Matt trying to jam in as much Monaco Formula One tv time as possible before I got home and complained about car racing. Seriously, who likes watching cars go round and round and round?