“Santa, thank you for the baby last year! This year, can I just have a rockin’ bod?”
First of all, I know that it is no longer the nineties. (Does anyone still say “rockin’” or “bod”?) The second thing that I know is that December marks 16 months after my baby was born and I am still struggling to get back into shape.
He is my third child and by far the hardest to bounce back from. I don’t know if it is what a woman’s body goes through when they become pregnant several times or the fact that the more kids you have, the less time you have to yourself and that includes time to work out. Whatever the reason, I find that I am not alone. Quite a few women that I know have high hopes of going into the holiday season while practicing a “diet” of some sort.
I believe that eating right and exercising frequently will allow you to take care of your body. But is it enough? I recently started another weekly workout routine that includes kickboxing and body conditioning classes at my gym. I say “another” because it seems like every time I get into a weekly workout schedule, either I get sick or my kids do. Then we are out for a week or two and have to start all over again. As always, the first day back is always the hardest for me.
Today it is the kickboxing class. It is a challenge for me from the very start. I stop looking at the clock every couple of minutes and being shocked that the time hasn’t moved faster. The instructor is good. She is motivating and encourages us to work hard. She doesn’t let up. There is only one hour, as she says and she uses every minute.
I am only 15 minutes into class and I am panting. As I try to catch my breath, I wonder how many people in class can hear my heart pounding through my chest. As I begin to recover from the numerous kicking exercises we have just completed, she announces that it is time for a “cardio sprint.”
I am not sure what a “cardio sprint” is but I nearly groan out loud anyway. It doesn’t sound like anything that I want to do. As I find out, it is 2-4 minutes of high intensity cardio. I knew I didn’t like the sound of it. I am ashamed to say that I almost took a break. I couldn’t believe how out of shape I was. I was struggling to get through a fitness class that I used to do several times a week. Yes, I almost stopped my cardio, and ran, defeated, out of class.
But I didn’t leave. Years ago, I started taking classes at the front of the room so if I was tempted to leave, I would have to walk past everyone else and see how hard they all were working, just to get to the door. So there I was, at the front of the class, the wall mirror showing me every area on my body that needed improving. Once our “sprint” was over, we were told to get a drink. My heart raced as I gulped the cold water. I grabbed a towel and held it over my face to catch the sweat from my forehead. I wanted to cry into that towel. I am not sure if it was because I was so happy that the sprint was over or because I was so disappointed in how out of shape I was.
I convinced myself that it was a start. A good start that began with going to class that day and getting through the class, working as hard as I could. As I was giving myself a pep talk, the class instructor’s words snapped me away from my own thoughts. “Let’s go with the speed bag!” She announced. I looked at the clock on the wall. Forty more minutes to go, I wonder how many more sprints we have? OH NO!
To Be Continued….