Joy Seekers

How motherhood changes your identity as an athlete, and why that's not such a bad thing

(Part 1)

Professional mountain biker Britt Greer pregnant with Baby Jo (and accompanied by dog Kazu) in her home town of Golden, Colorado. (Photo credit: Ian Fohrman)

I stopped alpine skiing the minute I found out I was pregnant. It was December 31, so that amounted to four months of cold Colorado winter without the distraction of a powder day. I biked until my bike shorts wouldn’t fit over my growing belly, and I stopped running around 25 weeks when my breathing was just too labored to keep my heart rate low. But otherwise I remained myself during pregnancy, nordic skiing and hiking up steep ridge lines with my energetic dog, swimming many miles in the community pool, and traveling from Mexico to Maine to New Mexico. I ate what I wanted—including sushi, enjoyed the occasional glass of wine, and took cold dunks in the creek near my house up until week 40. But I missed skiing. 

So after Wesley was born and the snow started falling again, I couldn’t wait to get back to the mountain. A few months postpartum and with a few workouts under my belt, I couldn’t imagine anything standing in my way. We packed the night before, prepared a babysitter checklist, and hit the road to beat Denver traffic on our way to Winter Park.

My brain felt ready, my body was fully recovered, but something was off. As I cruised down a blue square for our “warmup” run, I slowed down. I imagined myself falling, I imagined someone running into me, and I felt my body pulse with fear. I paused to gather myself, and tried to get back into the right mindset. I’d been skiing for 30 of my 33 years, often flying down bumpy woods runs in pursuit of my ski instructor sisters, craving the challenge of a tricky line or the pressure of a chute under the lift to push me to ski with perfect form. Skiing was my escape from middle school anxiety, high school rebellion, and college hangovers. It energized me and fed my soul in a way that not much else ever has. 

So I asked myself: Why did it feel so scary to be out there? Would I ever reclaim the feelings of joy that skiing once gave me?

Was skiing worth the risk?

***

Becoming a mother changes us forever. There is no question that life will never be the same, and that just as our bodies shift and morph to bring this child into the world, our priorities restructure to care for the living thing we love most. But for those of us who define ourselves as outdoor adventurers, athletes, or mountain people pre kids, we're unwilling—or unable—to give it all up in service to a nap and feeding schedule. And we shouldn't have to, should we?

Between the scarcity of time to train, changing energy levels (read: less sleep), and the nagging reminder of how crutches would impact our caretaker roles, pursuing high-risk sports feels riskier than it did before. And yet many female athletes continue to pursue the sports they love, often with a few tweaks, usually in between naps and feedings, and sometimes with a little friend along for the ride. 

What about the pros? For those whose sport is also a part of their livelihood, that decision to keep competing is more complicated. While some quit competition altogether, others continue competing but stop craving the podium, still others charge harder than ever, committed to that sport which defines them and determined to make the most of every minute away from their children.

From the rolling waves of southern California, to the Michigan single track, to Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, to the Tetons, these women have defined what being a mom and an athlete means to them. They’ve dealt with complicated pregnancies, scary births, fussy babies, and postpartum body changes. Many juggle full-time jobs alongside a rigorous training schedule, piecing together childcare with the help of family, neighbors, and daycare. Some days are harder than others, and they’re all a little bit sleep deprived, but they share a deep commitment to the same goal: to find joy in their sport.

The Athletes

• Britt Greer - Golden, CO - Professional enduro mountain biker (and coach!) and mom to Baby Jo

• Jessie Young - Aspen, CO - Professional Ski mountaineer (skimo) racer and mom to Ryder and Bridger

• Kaitlin Mikkelsen - Encinitas, CA - Professional longboard surfer and mom to Madix Reef

• Chris Heilman - Driggs, ID - Sports psychologist and mom to Will

Author’s note: I wrote this story for myself. In the throes of postpartum exhaustion, weighed down by too many thoughts and the emotional adjustment of understanding who I was as mother and athlete, I found myself bringing up motherhood and identity with anyone who would listen. When a single conversation led to another introduction, and my interviewees asked me to send them the article when it was finished, I realized I was onto something. Each phone call left me energized and inspired by the woman on the other end.

Where I expected to hear frustration or the injustice of compromise, instead I heard optimism. I heard a sense of gratitude for their children, their bodies, and their partners. And I heard a deep sense of calm. When everything changes and nothing will ever be the same, one thing remains consistent: While our relationships with our sports may shift, the mountains and oceans that we love will always be there for us. We just have to remember to pay them a visit every once in a while.