I’ve been playing ultimate frisbee for 15 or so years, and while I’m most definitely not even remotely close to being the best player, I have played at a high level (and even won one (masters) national championship!) with people who are A LOT better than me. Part of my motivation to move to the Bay Area 5 years ago was to try to play among these national and world champions. Even the casual pick up games out here are of the highest level. It was so much fun playing competitively on a club team and competitively in casual leagues and pickup games. Then I moved to Kenya and basically “retired” from club ultimate. Though I did have a lot of fun playing ultimate in Kenya, (read this blog post and this blog post!) the sport is still young there, and so the talent is just emerging. 

When I moved back to the Bay from Kenya at the beginning of 2019, I was itching to play some competitive ultimate again. But at that point, I had basically taken a year off and was in my mid-30s, which made for a hard combination for me to get back into shape — especially considering I was not in world-class shape beforehand. For other, more talented athletes this would not have posed as big of a hurdle, but even before my so-called retirement I have always lagged in the endurance and top speed departments. (I attribute this to my youth as a gymnast, where I needed explosive power not long-lasting power.) It really seemed like a lost cause to try to play on a club team again. I did however play winter league and went to as much pick up as I could. And it was glorious! Then I got pregnant and played* my last tournament at Masters Nationals in July and re-entered retirement. 

*Fun story: I barely played at Masters Nationals because the heat of Denver in July and the altitude of Denver all year round didn’t mix well with my being pregnant. However I did very much enjoy sitting in my chair under the shade tent, snacking on snacks, and cheering on my team! I warmed up with the team and that hour a day was plenty for me. But in 1 of the 5 points I played all weekend was in a game that was randomly on one of the showcase fields and was being announced. I got a pretty sweet defensive catch-block in the endzone – preventing the other team from scoring – and when the announcer said “Krisztina Finn with the block” my teammates excitedly told him that I was pregnant and he made a funny joke, something along the lines of “foul: double team!”. I thought it was very funny and laughed. 

During my pregnancy I was itching to play, and 6 weeks after Kalliszta was born, I laced my cleats back up! My first foray back was at goaltimate pickup with a handful of Team USA members, Callahan winners, and multiple national and world champions. Needless to say, it was hard to keep up. But it was so much fun and felt so good (and people did say they were impressed by my playing and couldn’t even tell I had a baby less than 2 months ago (which was for sure meant as a compliment but I spun it in my head to think “wow I guess I was always this slow and tired”))!

But what I had not fully realized was just how different the pre- and post- baby frisbee experience is. Pre-baby I would commit to showing up for pickup on the google spreadsheet days in advance (so we know we’ll have enough numbers), wake up 20 minutes before the game to pee, get dressed really quick, throw some extra jerseys in my bag in case I need a different color or sleeve length, and fill my water bottle. Post-baby felt like it took an extra half day, if not more, of planning. I would mark myself as a “maybe” on the google sheet because if I ended up not being able to go and people were counting me in the headcount to call game on, I would feel terrible. In the first few months after Kalliszta was born, I was pumping 6+ times a day. I had to start timing my pumps so that 30 minutes before I had to leave, my boobs were full and ready to be emptied. This was tricky and required some “power-pumps”, some longer stretches in between pumps (which is terribly uncomfortable and painful) and half-pumps in the days leading up to the game. So on the morning of, I do my normal getting ready, plus put on a pair of Thinx underwear (pee-absorbing underwear), then do a 30 minute pump session with extra time (10-15 minutes) for hand expression afterwards to get every last drop out that I could. Imagine having full water bottles taped to your chest bouncing up and down while you are trying to run. I certainly don’t need that extra weight and that extra drag mixed with how slow I already am. So I empty out completely, place a cooling gel pad on both my nipples to prevent chafing, put on my tightest sports bra, put on another sports bra on top of that one, and then I am ready to go. Since it is only pickup, I know it will only last about 2-3 hours, after which I speed home because by the end of the game I am full again and have to pump right when I get home. And all of this requires buy-in from Bill, because I am basically out of commission the entire morning leading up to me leaving, then I am gone for hours at a time, and then I have to tend to myself again when I get home (pump and then shower). He of course wants me to go have fun and play, and I am so thankful to have a partner because if I were by myself it would be so difficult to continue my hobby.

For the few single-day tournaments I went to, it is even more complicated. In addition to everything in the above paragraph, I need an extra bag to pack my pump, my external battery for the pump, extra batteries for the external battery, the pieces necessary for pumping (the funnels, the flanges, the bottles, etc.), the storage bottles and lids, ice or a cool place to store the bottles post pump, the “hooter hider” (a piece of fabric that goes around my neck and drapes over my chest to hide whatever is going on below), and some tissues for cleaning up the drippage. And I have to plan my sports bras so that they act like a pumping bra to hold the flanges in place hands-free. I have to wear a looser one on the top to pull down and the tighter one underneath to pull up. And I have to pack an extra loose sports bra for post-pump as somehow the bra pulled down always gets wet during this kind of pump session. I try not to think about this lost milk. I try to time this mid-frisbee pump either in between games or a halftime. Either way, I usually end up missing at least a half a game to go to my car, get all set up, pump and clean myself up. It is a whole big production that uses up a lot of my mental energy. But once I am on the field, this is the only time I have found during motherhood that I fully can let go mentally, not think about anything or anyone, and just play. No thoughts, no worries, just focused on the game and having a great time. And if both Bill and I are going to play, and Kalliszta is coming with us, like when we had goaltimate league in the evenings, forget about it. I won’t even get in to those logistics and packing of stuff and how my brain is occupied with how Kalliszta is doing on the sideline (comfy and cozy asleep in her bassinet) when really I want to be not thinking about anything but playing. Can you even imagine the logistics and packing list to go to a multi-day tournament an airplane ride away postpartum?! I can’t either. Only true heroes have attempted this feat. And I am in great awe. 

I also have to remind myself to not lay out and really avoid any sort of collision with anything or anyone into my boobs. It is not only painful but could lead to more serious problems like a clogged duct, and maybe even mastitis. Luckily I have not experienced either of those. But I did layout/fall during a beach tournament on the sand and I took an injury (I went off the field mid-point) because I got scared. But I was fine! (FYI, I did catch the disc before I called injury.) Another big change is I NEED to cool down and stretch after playing. I normally didn’t stretch because I was rushing home to pump, so it took my body close to a week to recover from a game. 

About 3 months after Kalliszta was born, a global pandemic started which obviously put an end to any sort of ultimate frisbee happenings. Luckily I got in 2 months of some good hard fun frisbee post-birth pre-pandemic. Though the future is uncertain, I am hopeful that one day again we will all be able to play. (I am publishing this post on Memorial Day Weekend because those in the ultimate world know that the College National Championships happen every year on this weekend, and it got me thinking and feeling nostalgic, and feeling sad for current college players as the tournament was obviously canceled this year.)

The purpose of this post is not to complain, but to shed light on what really goes down behind the scenes logistically (and mentally) when a postpartum and/or breastfeeding athlete comes back to a sport. Some serious props to those ladies. You know who you are, and I see you. And I respect the hell out of you.

 

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And now a photo homage to my former self: