Plugged in

Leave a comment August 3, 2016 drworobec

I bring my kids with me to the gym often, especially in the Summer months, when my teacher husband is home and he and I get the chance to do a workout together. The kids are very used to this drill and part of the routine involves watching iPad videos. There’s a great front foyer at my gym; a large, open area overlooking the workout floor but separated by a half-wall. They set up their chairs, I set up the Netflix, and they don their headphones and lay out the snacks. For one hour, three or four days a week, they get an hour of iPad time and my husband and I get an hour of fitness and friends.

But I wonder about the judgement.

We almost always bring the iPad to the gym. They almost always use it for the entire hour. I almost always wonder if we should bring books and scooters instead.

Here’s the thing: we are pretty strict about screen time. My kids each get 20-30 minutes per day. Usually my son chooses an iPad game and my daughter chooses a Netflix cartoon, and in the Summertime, they often use their screen time right after breakfast. On CrossFit days, they use it at the gym. We are an active family with a busy life and we throw in a family afternoon movie once in a while and watch nearly all Jays games in their entirety. TV is a part of our life, but not a big part, so why do I feel so guilty about plugging them in while I work out? Perhaps it’s because of my worry about public perception or perhaps it’s because of the contradiction between their physical inactivity during my physical activity.

Whatever the reason, I’m trying to adopt my husbands stance on this (and on many things), “we do what’s right for our family.” Yes, we do. And this works for us.

The truth is, I’m not a huge TV person; my screen of choice is my phone. But I do enjoy decompressing on the couch at the end of the day, nearly every day, with my husband, the TV in the background and my iPhone in the foreground. My blog post last week talked about my need for daily solitude and downtime, both of which my kids deserve to have as well. And if that downtime is sometimes done in front of a screen for sixty minutes, then so be it.

My kids love coming to the gym. They love flipping on the rings, hanging from the pullup bars, swinging the kettlebells, and having their iPad time. And when they grow up and look back on Summer childhood memories, I know that an iPad screen will not be a major player. “We do what’s right for our family.” 3-2-1-Go.

Come with me.

7 Comments June 27, 2016 drworobec

The sweetest moment happened to me in the early hours of Sunday morning. Two days later, it’s still making me smile, so I want to share it here with you.

I had my alarm set to wake me at 6:30am, wanting to get in a run before the rest of my household was up, so as not to miss precious weekend family time. In my mind, I was planning for a fast 8km, much of it at tempo pace, as I’m doing a 5K race on Friday and haven’t tested much speed since my shortened half marathon four weeks ago. I was looking forward to the glassy lake, music in my earbuds, and to feel the burn in my lungs. This run had been scheduled into my online calendar many days prior, and as I often do before a run, I had visualized my route and mentally prepared for the welcomed discomfort that a hard effort brings.

My alarm beeped softly, and sunlight was already streaming into the bedroom, a nice change from the cold, dark Winter pre-dawn runs only a few months prior. My four-year-old daughter was snuggled up against me; as I’ve mentioned before, since our move last September she’s taken to crawling into our bed halfway through the night- something I cherish and know won’t last forever. As I snuck out from underneath her embrace, her sleepy eyes started to open. “Where are you going?” she whispered. “I’m going for a run,” I replied. “Go back to sleep, it’s too early to get up.”

Now, she often stirs when I head to the gym at 5:30am and a simple “go back to sleep” puts her right back into dreamland. But this time, her eyes welled up and as she laid back down I could see her little mouth turning into a soft whimper. She began to suck on her fingers for comfort, something she’s done since she was a newborn. She was crying because I was leaving. My heart broke.

“Do you want to come with me?” I asked. “Yes,” she nodded and pulled back the covers, her bedhead on full display and her little body still warm from slumber. In less than five minutes we were out the door, with a Chariot full of breakfast snacks and a little girl in pyjamas. It was a sunny Summer morning, and because we were so early, we got to enjoy quiet streets and sleepy houses, with bunnies and robins abound.

I changed my run plan from push-the-pace to savour-this-moment, and savour it I did. We did that 8km along the lake, as I had originally planned (and we got the glassy lake that I love so much), but my heart rate stayed low and my heartstrings pulled high. I stopped to open snack containers, to play at the park, and to point out the geese and the paddleboarders. We talked about every thought that popped into her head, every bike that rode by, and every seemingly-mundane thing that fascinates a four-year-old. It was quite possibly the best run I’ve ever had, and my runner’s high is still going.

Running with my kids is not new- there are thousands of miles on my running stroller I’m sure, and they are both very used to joining me. But this time was different because our family is at such a time of transition. You see, this smart, inquisitive little girl is heading to full-time Kindergarten in September, and I’m having a hard time with it (see my previous post on the topic). She’s growing up and gaining independence, and the days of me pushing her in the running stroller, the days of her sobbing to join me on a run, and the days of her sleeping beside me are numbered. I’m hyper-aware of this the second time around.

Have I mentioned that I’m an emotional sort? Add in life changes, my children, running, and a glassy lake, and I’m done for. But my tears were happy ones, they are happy ones; it’s just that sometimes the love and gratitude overwhelm me.

So if you saw a crying mother and a chatty little girl zipping along the lakefront on Sunday, that was us. “Run fast Mommy,” she said.

I will, sweet girl. Come with me.

The lessons of sport

2 Comments May 31, 2016 drworobec

This was a sporty weekend for me, just how I like ’em. We picked up my daughter’s soccer team picture, my son had a touch football game, I went to the most exciting Jays game I’ve ever been to, and I ran a half marathon. Well, actually I ran half of a half marathon.

Months ago, when a May 29th half marathon seemed like a good carrot to chase through the Winter, myself and a couple of girlfriends registered for this women’s only event. It took place in Sunnybrook Park, the scene of many, many training runs during my Chiropractic College days ten years ago. It would be a run down memory lane I thought, and a great chance to build up my mileage again after a two-year distance racing hiatus.

I ran Burlington’s Chilly half marathon in early March, under-trained and suffering for 21.1km. Sunday’s race was to be my redemption; a flat course, more training mileage under my belt, and a small field of runners to help me push the pace and run a race I was proud of. To have a great trio of supportive friends on the race course with me and a post-race brunch to look forward to was the icing on my proverbial running cake. Alas, Mother Nature had other plans for us. With a Spring that’s been abnormally cold and wet, the weather had dramatically shifted to record-breaking heat and humidity. Not only were we not acclimatized to the heat (I ran my last long run two weeks prior wearing a toque and gloves!), but with the humidity factored in, conditions were dangerous.

The race organizers sent out a warning email the day prior, alerting us that the half marathon distance could be shortened, in what was to be a raceday decision. If I’m being honest, I was discouraged and annoyed, feeling like my pre-dawn Sunday long runs and plodding through mid-week mileage with my favourite running buddy were all for naught. Nevertheless, I carb-loaded at the Jays game, packing a bag full of baked sweet potatoes, Lara bars, and ice water, much to the amusement of my friend Jen. Yes, I actually did that. Yes, I’m crazy.

We arrived race morning to find out that the race had in fact been downgraded to 12km (although my friend’s GPS trackers said it ended up being closer to 13km), and organizers encouraged us to treat it as a “fun run” instead of a race. They were even foregoing age group prizes to discourage racing under such extreme conditions. It was the right call, despite the day prior’s disappointment factor. The heat quickly became oppressive and I ran far slower and felt far worse than my perceived exertion would dictate.

Sport teaches us many lessons, and this weekend it taught me adaptability. And perseverance. And determination. And tenacity. And friendship. And fun.