The Mama Conundrum
In search of a middle ground where two identities—mom and cyclist—can happily coexist
The author and her son, Felix. Photo: James Stewart
By Jen Ward
@jennyontherun
We should have different words for love. There’s my love for things like coffee, or post-ride beers. There’s my love for my partner and son. And then there’s my love for riding a bicycle.
I didn’t realize how powerful the latter was until I had my son. It was easy to stop riding through pregnancy, as an almost welcome break from near-constant training. After his birth, I was advised to ease back into exercise. I strapped him to me or popped him in the stroller and we explored everything from far-flung islands to the trails around our mountain town.
It wasn’t long until I started doing the things I love again, like swimming in the lake just steps from our back door and eventually, running. I learned to mountain bike properly and was attending killer indoor cycling classes.
But as a longtime road cyclist and triathlete who’d felt the magnetism of a long climb or the rush of a buttery-smooth descent, there was something missing. At the time we lived in one of the best possible places for outdoor activities. Except for one: road cycling.
There was an itch I’d have to wait to scratch.
Sometime around his first birthday, I found myself drinking coffee in the sunshine with a bunch of other cyclists after my first group ride in ages. It was much longer and faster than I was prepared for, and I’d loved every minute. My heart raced with the adrenaline of caffeine and conversation while, simultaneously, my body felt that familiar ache. My partner and I had just bought our first home together in Victoria—a picturesque west-coast Canadian city and one rather hospitable to all forms of cycling. In many ways, I was home.
Eventually, riding worked its way back in. Spring opened to new friendships and routes. Summer shelled out all-day adventures and a surge of fitness. Fall introduced me to yet another mistress: gravel.
High-fives for ‘mom-life’ and ‘bike-life’ happily coexisting! Photo: James Stewart
I didn’t see it then, but the bike was stealing me away from the two other loves. The best days for riding are, of course, also the best family days. The Saturdays and Sundays once reserved for breakaways were now for beach walks and baby-ccinos. I’d spent a decade chasing pelotons, now I chased a toddler around a playground. My heart was split.
For months, I tried to do it all. I meticulously juggled and traded, trying to make it work. I negotiated, obsessed, and mis-prioritized. In my mind, I was managing, balancing. But as anyone in a long-term relationship knows, “in my mind” goes as far as a tire through a patch of goatheads.
“He’ll only be little for so long.” “This time goes so fast—you have to take the long view.” Some of my friends seemed to have drunk the mom Kool-Aid. (Heck, they made their own organic, sugar-free versions of it.) I envied them—a baby strapped to their chest while they pushed another in the stroller. They seemed maternal and nurturing while I felt selfish and narrow sighted.
Others were more honest, and I loved them for it: “I broke down in tears on the bike the other day because I missed it so much.” “I feel like I’ll never get my body back.”
Was there a middle ground somewhere? A place where my cycling self and my mom-self could co-exist—or be friends, even?
The thing with cycling—or at least the kind most of us reading this prefer—is that it takes a long time. I can pound out a 50-minute tempo run in the morning and my partner can go for a quick kayak in the afternoon, leaving plenty of time for more family-oriented pursuits. And there are many days we do just that: peaceably weave our personal passions into life as three.
Then there are the days I pushed too far and too hard. Days I feel trapped and resentful, not wanting to have to ask permission. On the bike, I feel free, unleashed. Our families, by nature bond and tie us. I was slowly learning the rules of that new reality: If I was fed by seven-hour gravel excursions on Sundays, it was going to have to be a rare feast, not a weekly indulgence.
Cycling will always be there, and for as long as I’m healthy enough to turn the pedals, I will. But I also know my son will only be little for a while. He’ll go off into the world. He’ll grow too big and too busy for books at bedtime. If I’m lucky, he’ll want to ride with me from time to time—at least until I’m too slow. When that time comes, I hope he’ll join me on the front porch after his rides so I can tell him about the days mommy was fast, too.
Maybe he’ll care. Or maybe he’ll only remember that on Saturday mornings we’d walk to the farmer’s market for scones. Because when it comes to families, that’s really just another word for love.
Photo: James Stewart
Tips For a Happy, Two-love Life
-Embrace the weekdays: If you have young kids, carve out time to ride during the week, either early in the morning or while they’re in school or daycare.
-If your kids still nap and you have a partner to share childcare responsibilities with, ride during naps on the weekend. (This likely means you’ll be riding solo a lot.) Alternatively, find a friend who can ride with five minutes’ notice and never let them go.
-Merge family plans with riding plans. Some of my best rides have involved riding to my partner's kayaking destination, or riding my gravel bike to the mountain bike trails and swapping out rigs to join him for a rip. I’ve ridden while they nap in the van, and I’ve ridden random point-to-point stretches while they drive the rest of the way to a destination. Creativity goes a long way.
-If your rides are causing arguments, take it as a sign. Check in regularly with your spouse and kids to make sure they’re not forgetting that you’re part of the family. Honesty is hard, and necessary.
-Embrace the trainer. You’ll only get stronger, even if your friends are having way more fun. You’ll get back out there with them sooner or later.
A veteran of the endurance sports media industry, Jen Ward is a mom, sometimes triathlete, and always passionate gravel cyclist. She lives on Vancouver Island, Canada, with her son, Felix, and partner, James.
