Race Week, But Make It Motherhood
It’s officially race week for my first HYROX event. (And if you’re already wondering what the f*ck is a HYROX race? — totally fair. HYROX is basically a mix of endurance racing and functional strength workouts—think running, sled pushes, rowing, lunges, all back-to-back + a whole lot of running. You can check it out here.)
In theory, this is the part of training where things get easier — fewer workouts, more rest, more sleep, more carb loading (this last part is still going strong, as I am currently eating a baguette while typing). It's the week you slow down, focus on the gains you’ve made, and trust the hard work you’ve put in.
At least, that’s what race week looked like before I had kids.
Before motherhood, I competed in triathlons — yup, I was one of those people who willingly spent an absurd amount of time and money to race for an entire day. It was such a fun chapter of my life. It indirectly led me to meeting my husband and I made some incredible friendships along the way.
Endurance competitions was a part of myself that I had to put aside for a long time when I started having kids. Finding my way back to it has been slow and messy and incredibly rewarding. I’ve had lots of doubts along the way to if I could or even wanted to resume races again. And I have to say, it feels good to reclaim something that once took up so much space in my identity. HYROX feels like the perfect combination of hard paired with the kind of “I might die but I’m also having fun” energy I weirdly enjoy. And honestly, it doesn’t hurt that I love showing my boys that moms can be badasses too.
Of course, training looks very different now. I fit it in where I can, try to work out with friends so I get my social fix at the same time, get creative with runs while the boys scooter beside me, and squeeze in classes around school schedules, activities, and whatever the day hands me. I have far less time in general, which means I have to be more efficient with training and recovery.
Speaking of recovery — the week leading up to a race (taper week) used to be the ultimate recovery period. And I loved it! It was always the most chill, easy-going week. Back then, race week was almost luxurious. I could relax, prep my meals, get nine hours of sleep, reread my training plan just for fun, and spend long stretches alone getting mentally ready. There was also usually some vision boarding and mindfulness involved too!
It was predictable. Controlled. Peaceful.
Of course, in this season of life, race week looks nothing like that.
And that contrast has been sitting with me.
The Race Week I Used to Know vs. the Race Week I’m Living Now
This race week barely started and has already been a revolving door of sick kids, early wake-ups, reshuffled childcare, and a schedule held together by optimism, calendar reminders, and sheer will.
Workouts have shifted.
Sleep has… not been great.
Every plan has required a backup plan.
And the mental load? Louder than my training playlist.
This isn’t the race week I imagined.
But it is the race week of a mom training for something big and figuring it out anyway.
Racing After Kids: A New Relationship With My Body and Time
Stepping into this race, I feel different in a way that’s hard to name.
I feel strong in the way motherhood teaches you to be - gritty, patient, and grateful for the chance to even be doing this. For years, it wasn’t possible, and getting back here took real work: physical therapy, taking it slow, rebuilding piece by piece. It’s a lived-in kind of strength - the kind that lets me carry two kids, the groceries, and my Stanley up our absurd stairs without thinking twice. This is not the same body I trained with years ago. A lot has shifted (some changes easier to embrace than others) but that feels like part of the ongoing work of motherhood
My time is also not entirely my own. Time has become the most precious (and scarce) resource I have. I’m constantly prioritizing, re-prioritizing, and then inevitably adjusting when something unexpected happens. My energy is spread across tiny humans, clients, meals, bedtime routines, emails, and the never-ending scroll of tasks that live inside every mother’s brain.
This race has required new things from me - patience, flexibility, self-compassion, and taking each day as it comes. It’s also meant recognizing that some things just feel harder or slower than they used to.
And there’s gratitude in recognizing what’s grown — my partnership and how supported I feel in prioritizing myself, my kids being a huge source of motivation, my community cheering me on, and my badass friend (and fellow mom) who said yes to training and racing alongside me.
Race Week With a Village: The Part No One Sees
One of the biggest differences in training as a mom is that I can’t do it alone.
And honestly? I shouldn’t.
I was lucky to find an incredible training community in my 20s — fun, social, full of people who pushed me and made everything feel like play. I look back on those days so fondly.
My village today looks a lot different. It’s less about a shared hobby or interest, like triathlons once were. Now, it revolves around my kids, my female friendships, and my family. I’ve formed a new network of people to train with and coaches who’ve supported me, and I get to train and compete alongside a friend who is just as unhinged (in the best way) as I am — raising kids, running a small business, and somehow still saying, “Yeah, let’s do HYROX.”
Before kids, I was so much more self-reliant in my training. I could be. And it was nice. But there’s something deeply meaningful about feeling the support and interconnectedness of my village now. My husband supports me prioritizing this — even when it means he’s carrying more of the childcare load and my people help me remember why it matters. The support looks different now — but so do I.
Which is why, this week, when things started unraveling, my village stepped in:
Family members rearranged their days to watch the boys.
Friends checked in, offered encouragement, and listened while I processed the chaos.
And one friend even offered her extra room/ADU so I could get a full, uninterrupted night of sleep before the race — the kind of mom-to-mom generosity that nearly made me cry.
Maybe This Is Exactly the Race Week I Was Supposed to Have (Minus the strep throat)
If this were pre-kids me, I’d be spiraling over missed workouts or imperfect sleep. Like seriously spiraling.
But this version of me — the mom version — is learning something bigger:
Prepared doesn’t always mean polished. (Though hopefully I will have a chance to get my nails done to match my partner’s)
Strong doesn’t always look linear.
Readiness can coexist with chaos.
And sometimes, motherhood itself is the training that prepares you most.
This week certainly hasn’t looked like the recovery week I planned, but it definitely reflects the life I’m living — one full of care, community, pivots, and purpose.
I’ll show up on race day (hopefully not sick and a little more rested) proud of the version of me that’s trained through sick days, curveballs, mental load, and motherhood.
I’m not the pre-kids version of myself, but let’s be honest — she couldn’t survive this week anyway. This version? She’s showing up anyways.