How Can Cycling Be A Therapist Of A New Mother 2021 | Enjoy Yourself While Biking Outside


Yeah, it was one of those days.

It seemed like I was behind on all of my housework, everyone needed me NOW, a friend had to process a very tough situation with me, and on top of it all, Helga Hormone was singing a shrill aria. You know her, right? Hat with horns, breastplate bigger than Ohio, blaring through whatever coherent thought you happen to can manage as she demands center stage . . .

I’ve dealt with my share of frustration, and I think that as the years go by, I’m dealing with it better. (Full disclosure: my husband may have another opinion.) I think I’m switching from mentally berating myself for not being the kind of person who always looks on the bright side to knowing what’s gonna shake off the gloom. Age does have a few advantages.

Husband had partially saved the day by taking the boys on an outing. Far away. For hours. But the tentacles of others’ needs were still too close, reaching in from too many sides.

So what’s an empowered woman to do? Hop on the bike.

I shut off my cell phone, threw on comfy clothes, and headed out for a ride. Within moments, I was in that place where it’s only me, the road, my quads pumping and breath going in and out. Simple freedom.

While I was milking the other day (New here? I have milk goats, chickens and pigs. Just helping you keep up.), I realized that I love biking for the same reason that I love milking. It’s a time beyond time. I’m not looking at the clock, calculating how long until the next event, seeing how many things I can squeeze in before we absolutely, positively have to be at our next scheduled event. There’s no phone, no kitchen counter disaster, no laundry composting in the corner.

So don’t ask me how far I went, how long I was gone, or if I’d hit my target heart rate. Don’t know, don’t care. I flew at the feet of mountains, pushed on through spattering rain, and kicked up some nemesis hills, all at my own speed.

I came home to find Helga settling in the backstage. The pile of dirty dishes looked manageable. I could imagine folding a load of clothes. My first post-ride words to my kids were kind and patient.

Not bad for a one-time investment that keeps paying dividends.

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