I have entered a new era. I am now living in the I-Have-Discovered-The-Magic-of-Recovery-Tights era.
In my mission to get back into shape after Baby 2, I aim to work out and/or play tennis five days a week. When I have time, I cram in a short run on the weekends. Back before life with babies, cycling was my favorite cross training activity. I could ride 30 miles without much problem. That was now three years and two babies ago. Recently, my husband got me back on my road bike. After completing a 19-mile ride, my legs were Jell-O. I could feel the ache coming on fast.
Worried about next day soreness — and even worse, second day agony — I went to my drawer of workout gear and dug to the back for my nearly forgotten pair of Skins RY400 Recovery Tights. The science behind these is pretty technical, but basically these tights use compression to deliver extra oxygen to muscles to help them recover more quickly (check out my previous entry on Skins for the nitty gritty details). When TW first brought in Skins a few years ago, I picked up some of the recovery tights because I was really sold on all the benefits, but I hadn’t used them much because I proceeded to expand the family and shelved super intense workouts.
Fast forward to family of four and my post-19-mile-ride wobbly legs. I pulled on the recovery tights and pulled on pink Nike shorts over them. I didn’t care if I looked silly. I needed to cook dinner. Plus, my 2 1/2-year-old thought it looked cool because mommy was wearing tights just like she was. I wore them through the whole bedtime routine with the kids, and then when I finally went to bed, I wore them to sleep (and also to wake up in the middle of the night. I do have a newborn after all).
When I got up for good to start the day, I feared taking them off, but it had to be done. I told myself I could wear these beneath my jeans to work if need be. So I showered and got ready, but I forgot to put on the tights. You know what? It didn’t matter. Somehow after barely being able to stand to make dinner, let alone walk around the night before, I was not sore. I climbed the stairs to my office. I sensed my legs had worked out the day before, but they were fine. I played tennis later. Still, I was fine. My dread of overworked, spent legs didn’t come to fruition, and all I did was wear tights. I’m now a believer.
My Skins tights are washed and ready. I’m going for another ride this week.
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