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Safe exercise ideas for mums to be

26 Jun

When I was pregnant with Daniel, I exercised all the way until I was 37 weeks and my gym membership ran out. I spoke to my doctor first to make sure the things I was doing were safe for me and my unborn baby. There are definitely some exercises you shouldn’t do when pregnant, so today’s guest post contains some that most people can do when they have a bun in the oven. (it’s always important to speak to your doctor before embarking on an exercise journey whilst pregnant):

Exercise; for some people it’s a swear word, but for others it’s what gets them through life, and keeps them sane in a mad world. When it comes to pregnancy, exercise can be a good friend, because it can help to prevent complications such as pre-eclampsia. It is believed that it can also help with a shorter labour, which is every mother-to-be’s sweet dream. An active lifestyle during pregnancy can also assist with keeping the body in shape, and reducing back pain, constipation and fatigue. So when you think about it, exercising during pregnancy is really actually the only way to go, if you want to get the most out of the experience! Here are some safe exercise ideas for Mums-to-be.


Yoga is probably the best exercise in the world, because it is so gentle, yet does so much for your body. Most yoga teachers have specific classes for people who are pregnant, where they will work specific muscles according to what the mother’s body needs at the time. Yoga truly is an amazing tool for keeping the body in optimal condition and there are poses for soothing any pain, or bodily concern – all you have to do is ask. Always communicate with the teacher about your concerns as they will be able to guide you. It is important to avoid laying on your back after 16 weeks as the weight of the baby presses on a main blood vessel. If the worry is about finding the right clothes to fit, check out this URL for some lovely maternity wear for Mums-to-be.


Walking is an excellent choice as it gets you out of the house, and out into the world. Often during the hormonal fluctuations of pregnancy, the mother-to-be can experience bouts of depression, or other feelings and walking will help with getting a change of scene. Sitting in a house, worrying, and dwelling on the pregnancy and birth is not going to do anyone any favours so get out, get the blood moving and get some fresh air into your body.


The great thing about swimming is that it is so low impact. Any exercise that you do in the water is supported, and it is the one place during pregnancy where you will be able to experience feeling weightless – which is a stark contrast to the heavy feeling of carrying the lump!

Me at 37 weeks pregnant with Hannah.  I used to do aqua aerobics during my first pregnancy.

Me at 37 weeks pregnant with Hannah. I used to do aqua aerobics during my first pregnancy.


Pilates is awesome for strengthening and toning, but can be quite a lot of work if you are doing the regular class, so make sure you find a teacher who can tailor the class to your needs as a pregnant woman.

Exercise Bike

An indoor exercise bike will mean that you can still exercise will staying in the comfort of your home, which is definitely advantageous if you are getting to the later stages of the pregnancy.

It’s best to mix it up and vary the sorts of exercise that you do, as this will help to work all the different muscles. Half an hour of exercise a day is a decent amount for a pregnant woman, and this can be easily split into 3 ten minute sessions. Any activity counts, (even housework!) so it doesn’t have to be formal exercise to get the benefits of an active pregnancy.

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The Spartan race

19 Mar

Four friends and I signed up for the Spartan Race quite a while ago.  A few of us knew before sign ups were even open that we were going to sign up.  Needless to say, I’ve had plenty of time to train for the race.  I was going pretty well with my training – running further than ever before, doing pump class at the gym….  But then I started uni and my gym days sadly fizzled down to one day a week.  I can only go to the gym when the creche is open, and the creche is only open from 9-12 on weekdays and 8-11 on Saturdays.  Now that I have uni, the kids or I have something on every single weekday morning, leaving only Saturday for the gym.

Point being, I went to the race is less than par condition.  Plus I had the tail end of a nasty cold.  After getting our numbers and leaving our bags at the bag drop, we wandered over to the start line that was counting down until our 11:20am start time.  We’d been eating red frog lollies and chocolate hot cross buns in the car, so we were hopped up on sugar and ready to go.   A photo with Commando from The Biggest Loser Australia provided us with further race excitement.

Kristina, Romana, Lauren, Commando, The Jess, and me right before our start time

Kristina, Romana, Lauren, Commando, The Jess, and me right before our start time

5…4…3…2…1 BEEP (airhorn)! Everyone started running.  And by running, I mean leisurely jogging.  For about 20 seconds when it turned into walking.  We all wondered why, until we got to the top of the hill and found everyone in front of us making their way down into the water, inhaling the giant cloud of dust as they went.

the first obstacle

the first obstacle

On the other side of the creek, a giant grassy hill awaited us.  We jogged half way up and then walked.  Good golly, I should have done some hill training.  Instead, I ran on the treadmill with the elevation set at 0 the entire time and concentrated instead on eventually running 7km’s – the length of the Spartan race.

After the giant crazy hill that left a lot of us fairly winded and wishing for a drinks station, the ground levelled out and we started jogging again.

Kristina and me looking rather puffed after the very first hill

Kristina and me looking rather puffed after the very first hill

As we turned  a corner, we found a mass of people crawling on their bellies under low barbed wire. Oh, so that is what Commando meant when he told us to roll under the wire.

Unlike the masses before us, we heeded his advice rolled.  It was much easier.

Rolling under the barbed wire.

Rolling under the barbed wire.

We ran/walked some more up and down hills until we came to a large wall with a rope attached to it.

Romana scaling the wall aided by a rope

Romana scaling the wall aided by a rope

We all successfully scaled the wall and continued on our way, with a  much needed drinks station within our sights.

excitedly running towards a drinks station

excitedly running towards a drinks station.  Yes, I have double jointed elbows. Feel free to cringe.

When we got there though, there was a big arrow pointing us in the opposite direction.  The drinks station was actually later down track, the paths just nearly crossed at that point.  Perhaps rounding the bend towards the drinks station was later, but you know what? It was 7kms, heaps of obstacles, and a hot day, so I don’t remember exactly.

Up and down some more grassy hills with cow poop (the whole event was in a cow pasture), we came to a series of muddy hills with troughs of muddy water in between them.

sliding on my bum down a slippery mud hill into a giant mud puddle

sliding on my bum down a slippery mud hill into a giant mud puddle

Some people landed in the pit so hard that their head went under.  Lucky for me, I managed to keep my head above water…er…mud.  My contacts probably wouldn’t have fared so well if they were full of mud.

Me and The Jess in a mud pit

Me and The Jess in a mud pit

It was quite hard getting out of the muddy pits as the hills were so incredibly slippery.  Successful exit required help from team members and finding foot holds along the slippery slope.

me climbing out of the mud pit

me climbing out of the mud pit

“Romana’s butt looks like it’s crying.” The Jess told me after the mud pits.  Her shorts had big mud patches on the butt cheeks and muddy water was trickling down her leg.  “I bet we all look like that.”

“Yeah, you do.” The guy running behind us said.

“Oh, so you’ve been looking at our butts, have you?” The Jess asked him, accusingly.

“I have to look at something while I run.”

He ran past us as he we laughed.  Awkward Turtles was written across his back.  Yeah, that was a bit awkward.

Next we came to a huge row of zig zagging balance beams.  If you fell off, you had to do 30 burpees.

Me and Romana tackling the balance beams

Me and Romana tackling the balance beams

They were a lot thinner than the standard balance beams at gymnastics centres.  Plus they wobbled since they were not so firmly stuck in the ground.  I made it almost to the end and started wobbling.  I was about to come off when Mr. Awkward Turtle ran over grabbed me until I re balanced myself, saving me from the 30 burpees.

“He owed you for looking at our butts.” The Jess said.

We ran/walked up and down some more hills before coming to some very muddy looking water.  It was swimming time.  Proper swimming time, this stuff was above our heads.  It was so refreshing as we got in, and I’m a decent swimmer, so I enjoyed our little river swim.

swimming across the river

swimming across the river

The Jess looked like a dog fetching a stick since she carried her camera in her mouth and doggie paddled across the river.

Finally, we came to the drinks station, where we were only allowed one little cup of water.  I think I could have drunk 3 litres by that point.

I haven’t been on the monkey bars since I was a little kid, but somehow my entire team and I managed to get all the way across.

Me on the monkey bars

Me on the monkey bars

Next we came to a giant wall.  Since The Jess has crazy like-a-monkey (I’m trying to say that without sounding derogatory) climbing skills, she went first, scaling that wall like it was nothing.  She stayed at the top to help the rest of us not-so-good climbers get to the top.

I decided to go second.  I planned to stay at the top to help as well.

Scaling the wall with help from my team

Scaling the wall with help from my team

Until I got there.  Then I realised there wasn’t much to hold on to on the back of the wall and I just wanted to get down.  I held on to the top of the wall and got my feet to the second board that was nailed to the back of the wall, providing a very small foot hold.  To get to the next one, I’d have to hold on to the first board nailed to the wall.  It wasn’t very thick, and we were quite high up.  What if I fell?

I stayed where I was, not knowing quite what to do.  I’m not sure if she scaled the wall whilst I was trying to figure out how I was going to get down without falling to my death, or is she just walked around the said of the wall to help me, but Lauren walked over and offered a hand.  I needed more than that.  My fear of falling outweighed my embarrassment and Lauren physically carried me away from the wall.  Thanks Lauren, I’m still grateful.

More running up and down hills brought us to the javelin throwing area.  I’ve never thrown a javelin in my life.

Me throwing the javelin

Me throwing the javelin

I missed.  Just.  My javelin even touched the straw bale, but it didn’t stick.  Neither did the other girls, which means we all had to do 30 burpees.

This is why I shouldn't dance. I can't even synchronise burpees for a photo

This is why I shouldn’t dance. I can’t even synchronise burpees for a photo

At least we got a photo of us molesting our javelins.

javelin molesting. As you do.

javelin molesting. As you do.

Not very far from the javelins, were the…um…I don’t even know what you call them, but there were a few walls with chunks of wood nailed to them that we had to get all the way across without holding on to the top of the wall, or touching the ground.  It wasn’t very high up, so I was fine with it.

Turns out, I was really good at it.

like a spider

like a spider

I was not so good at the rope climb.  Neither were the rest of the girls, or anyone else who was there at the same time as us.  Except the Jess.  She climbed that thing like it had knots in it or something.

The Jess (pink top) owning the rope

The Jess (pink top) owning the rope

The rest of us had to do 30 more burpees. Sigh.

On the side of the rope climb was a very slippery high ladder that we had to climb up to get to a couple of cargo nets that we had to get down.

Romana and me on the cargo net

Romana and me on the cargo net

At the triangle things, I ran towards them, grabbed leap frog style, and spun straight over.  The series of them took my about 3 seconds.  I’m much better at the obstacles than the actual running.

Just hold on and spin, you'll get straight over.

Just hold on and spin, you’ll get straight over.

Unfortunately, after the triangle things came the sandbags.  8kgs of sand which had to be carried up a giant hill and down the side.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t fall over a couple of times on the way back down.

My team going up the hill

My team going up the hill

It felt great to get the bags off of our shoulders, but the race was far from over.  There were a couple walls to go over, and one to go under.

I had a nice bruise from this one the next day

I had a nice bruise from this one the next day

We trekked through a muddy creek, sometimes up to our waists for about a kilometre.  By then, it was really hot and the sun was beating down on us.  I desperately wanted a drink, but none was to be found.  Unless you counted the muddy creek we were walking in, but I didn’t want to get any weird diseases.  I’m sure half of the mud was actually cow poop.  We hadn’t had a drink since just before the monkey bars.

trekking through the creek

trekking through the creek

When we finally came out of the creek, scraped up from tripping on submerged rocks, we crossed back through the triangle things, this time crawling through them.  Most people had to shimmy along on their bellies, using upper body strength to pull themselves along.  Not us short people.  We got to do a proper crawl.  For us it wasn’t really an obstacle, just a fun tunnel that would could giggle through as we watched everyone else labouring so hard to get to the other side.

Being small also allowed me to turn around at the end of the tunnel so I didn’t have to go face first into the muddy cow poop water like most people.

The swim was refreshing, but then we came to another barbed wire obstacle.  This one seemed never ending and was on very muddy ground, not grass like the last one.  Everyone seemed to have realised that rolling was the way to go.  I guess it would be too hard to belly crawl under barbed wire for about 400 meters in the mud.

Look way back into the photo, see how crazy far that rolling goes for? And to the right hand side, you can see the sand bag hill

Look way back into the photo, see how crazy far that rolling goes for? And to the right hand side, you can see the sand bag hill

Let me just point out that I don’t do spinning well.  I can’t even go on the teacup ride at Lollipops.  Spinning makes me feel like puking, and we all know how I feel about puking (vomit phobia remember?).  By the end of that barbed wire roll, I could hardly stand up straight, and I felt like I was going to lose my breakfast.

Needless to say, it probably wasn’t the best idea to put the fire jump straight after 400 meters of rolling.  I’m just lucky I didn’t land in the fire.

We jumped that smouldering log pile.  It was actually on fire and licked at our heels as we jumped, you just can't tell from the photo

We jumped that smouldering log pile. It was actually on fire and licked at our heels as we jumped, you just can’t tell from the photo

After pushing our way through some half hearted gladiators with big sticks, we were done.  We made it.  We finished the Spartan race.  We were covered head to toe in mud, scraped and bruised, parched, and tired, but we did it.

We finished the spartan race

We finished the spartan race

Hannah did the kids spartan race, but that’s another post for another day.

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Email to an online company

6 Nov

About 2 whole months ago, I ordered a running skirt. I have short legs, so skirts look much better on me than the standard skin tight capri gym pants. If you’re thinking “how does that possibly work, wouldn’t everyone see your butt as you run along?” Well no, they have built in compression shorts under the skirt. Around here, they are about 80 bucks and I’ve only seen them in one shop. A google search found one for $26 including free delivery from the UK. Awesome right?

I ordered the pink one. Of course.

Yeah. It would have been, if I’d actually received my running skirt.

After nearly a month, I sent them an email. A lovely, polite email enquiring as to the whereabouts of my awesome skirt. According the website, it hadn’t yet been shipped. While I was on the website, I read that after 30 days, if the order is not filled, it gets automatically cancelled. I also said in my email that I didn’t mind waiting, I just want my skirt and I don’t want the order to auto cancel. This is the reply I got:

Hello Mrs. Sheri Thomson

Thank you for your email.

I can confirm that your order should not automatically be cancelled on the 10th of October.

Once stock is received from our Suppliers your order will be processed and dispatched to you.

I apologies for the delay and any inconvenience this may cause.

If you have any further queries relating to this order please let me know, I will be happy to help.


Thomas H

Wiggle Customer Services      CONFIDENTIALITY NOTICE:   This e mail message is intended only for the person to whom it is addressed and may contain   confidential and/or privileged material. Any unauthorised review, use, disclosure or distribution   is prohibited. If you are not the intended recipient, please contact the sender by reply e mail   and destroy all copies of the original message

I left it at that. Another month went by, leading to today, when I received an email from PayPal saying my payment to Wiggle was refunded. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

Still in my annoyed state, I replied to their above email with this:

So guess what? I just got an email from PayPal saying I’ve been refunded for this order. Do you not remember the above email, in which you stated you would not automatically cancel my order? You didn’t even send me an email to let me know why the order was cancelled. The only way I know is from a PayPal email. I’m sorry, but that is not good customer service. I ordered my skirt TWO MONTHS ago. Is it really that hard to get me what I ordered? Isn’t that what you do? It wouldn’t be so bad, except that a couple of days after I ordered the running skirt from you that I really, really actually want to receive, I ordered some shoes for my husband. And guess what happened with those? Yes, that’s right, CANCELLED. And I only found out because of an email from PayPal. Not a peep from you guys on why it was cancelled. Do you actually send any products out to customers? Ever? I’m not sure why you paid to put ads all over the internet, bringing people to your “store” (I use the term loosely since there doesn’t actually seem to be any product changing hands), when you can’t actually fill any orders. 

I’m seriously disappointed. And darn it, I JUST WANT MY FRICKING RUNNING SKIRT!

In my search to find a photo of the skirt to post here on my blog, I found out that they are now discontinued, but have very similar skirts instead. Is it really that hard to send me an email saying something like “We’re really sorry, but the Nike___(whatever number/name the skirt has) is now discontinued. Would you like us to send you a similar skirt instead?” With a link to the skirt.

They still have ads all over the internet too:

Notice the “Fast Delivery” bit? HA! Tell them they’r dreaming!

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A wee problem at the gym

16 Jul

As I’m sure you’re all aware, I’ve been working out at the gym for some months now. Getting fit, losing the post-baby muffin top/love handles/cellulite/how-did-a-baby-fit-in-there left over pudge. The first thing I do at the gym is run. After dropping the kids off at the creche. Of course. The free creche. Yes, I know, that is super awesome.

I used to hate running. With quite a passion. Possibly because I looked ridiculous. My arms seemed to flap involuntarily kind of like a rabid chicken chasing a farmer with a meat cleaver. Poor Hannah, she has managed to inherit my poor running skills. Her flap is even more apparent then mine. Or possibly I hated running because it was hard. And boring. And I sucked at it. Sigh.

Pounding concrete whilst thinking about nothing and looking at sidewalk crack after sidewalk crack, all the while feeling like my lungs are going to burst and my legs are going to fall off, and getting a rash from my I-probably-should-have-shaved them thighs rubbing together? Ick. Hated it. I hated it.

I started running 2 years ago when I nearly died of excitement about the Amazing Race Australia. They were taking applications and by-golly, I was going to apply (and I did. You can watch my application video here. And yes, it does include a shot of the ridiculous running).

But then Aaron told me that if I actually managed to get on the show (I didn’t. Sigh), I’d have to run. A lot. And if I wasn’t good at running, I probably wouldn’t win.

And so my running regimen started. Er…not so much of a regimen as a once a week half killing myself to run 1 kilometer in like 20 minutes session.

That went on for a whole couple of months and then I stopped because I got pregnant and running was just way too hard.

Anyway…. I wasn’t planning on running at the gym. I was going to use that funny cross trainer, or elliptical machine (is that the same thing?) until I found out that the treadmill tells you how fast you’re going, your pace, and how many kilometres you’ve done. Now, I’m pretty competitive, so I decided to try to beat myself. I keep track of how many km’s I run in 15 minutes every time I go to the gym, and then I input it all into Runkeeper. Not to mention, I won’t be retarded at running when I next apply for the Amazing Race (which I will).

When I started, I was doing a kilometer in about 8 and a half minutes. Each week, I try to better my pace. I set new goals. I push myself.

Jillian Michaels – 30 Day Shred

A couple weeks ago, I was pushing myself. I was 13 minutes in to a 15 minute run at a pace of 5 minutes and 27 seconds per kilometer (for the whole run, not just at that particular moment. In case you were wondering…). My fastest run ever. I was nearly there. I was going to make it. I was so excited.

Oh crap.

I felt a little drip. Just a little.

I kept running. I was getting closer to 15 minutes. Closer to my best run.

Another drip. Maybe I was imagining things? Maybe it was just one little drop that was kind of hovering there, deceiving me.

I kept running.

Another drip. And another. And another.

I was starting to feel a bit wet.

But I kept running. I thought about stopping, but I really wanted to get to 15 minutes and complete my fastest run.

I kept dripping. I tried with all my might to hold it in, but I just couldn’t.

I wonder if you can see a wet patch. Can the people behind me see it?

I wasn’t sure. I kinda thought they could. Or maybe I was just imagining the drippy feeling. Either way, I kept running.

I looked at the timer on the treadmill.


I pushed the stop button and ran, then jogged, then walked until the treadmill came to a stop. As my legs came together and stopped moving, I knew. Without a doubt, I had leaked. Sigh.

For two entire minutes, I leaked, partially wetting myself as I ran.

Sweat pouring out of my armpits, face, and probably my butt-crack, I stepped off the treadmill, not knowing how big and visible the wet patch was.

Normally I do squats, lunges, 4 minutes on the grinder, sit ups, seated row, 2 minutes on the rowing machine, and then stretches.

I couldn’t do all of that. Not without knowing if there was a giant wet patch across my butt, a walking advertisement for all to see that I have a wee little problem.

I sat on the floor in the stretching area in a half-splits, stretching position. As I leaned forward, giving the illusion of stretching as I went, I had a sneaky little look at my crotch.


Staring right back at me was a decently sized pee-smelling wet patch.

As quick as humanly possible, I put my legs back together straight in front of me and stretched. I wanted to appear normal to anyone who may have caught a glimpse of my crotch spot. Like it was just sweat and no big deal or something. If I ran straight out of there, crying from embarrassment as I went, everyone would know that I half wet myself on the treadmill.

But if I continued stretching, without exposing my soiled crotch area to the world, then sauntered to the exit all nonchalantly, maybe no one would know.  Or maybe everyone would be quietly pointing to me whilst muttering “oh. my. gosh. Did you see that girl? She wet herself on the treadmill!” to their friends as I walked out.

Whatever, I went with the casually strolling out option. Except I tied my coat around my waist. Nothing says “accidentally wet myself on the treadmill” like a coat tied around the waist.

I guess after having kids, you can’t be lax about kegels. I haven’t done them in a while. I thought I was fixed.

Time to bust out the kegel exerciser again. Sigh.

Kegel exerciser GyneFlex with VTP (R) – Regular Strength

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Do more kegels

20 Oct

I love boxing class at the gym.  I tried Zumba, but we all know how that turned out….  No, I’m too special for Zumba.  We do something different each week at boxing class.  Each week I leave feeling like I want to curl up in a ball and sleep for a few days.  We do circuits, intervals, weights, pretty much anything that gets your heart rate up (in between the actual boxing of course).

This week, they busted out the jump ropes.  I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve jump roped, but it’s definitely been a very long time.  When I was little, I did Jump rope for Heart, and occasionally, we’d do double dutch jump roping at recess in grade school.  Yeah, long time indeed.  I was kind of excited when the instructor came in with the jump ropes.  Awesome, I’ve got this.

I was handed a jump rope and told to jump for one minute.  The rope was far too big for me.  I held out my arms like I was trying to measure something long so that I wouldn’t trip over the ginormous rope.

I took my first jump.  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  Was that?  Did I just…?

I jumped again.  A look of horror spread across my face.  The instructor looked at me oddly.  I pretended to get my feet all caught in the ridiculously large rope to pass time, jumping as little as I could.  I couldn’t just stand there, looking like a fool.  I jumped again.

Oh crap. I kept jumping.  With every jump, it kept happening.  I constantly (on purpose) got my feet tangled in the rope.  I kept jumping.  With every jump, a couple drops of pee came out.  I tried to hold it with all my might.  I kept jumping.  I kept leaking.  I put my legs together as far as I possibly could, desperately trying to gain the much needed control of my rogue bladder.

“Ok, stop!”  The instructor told us.

“I’ll be right back, I really have to pee!”  More funny looks.  Just behind me, another girl was running out too.  We ran to the bathroom, emptied our bladders, and went back to class.

“At least you have an excuse,” the girl around my age said “I’ve never had a baby!”

“Sorry, seems I need to do more Kegels.”  Yeah, I actually did announce this to the entire class.  Why not?

Time to jump again.  What???  How can this be happening again????  I JUST went to the bathroom! I spent most of the jump rope time pretending my feet were tangled in the rope with each jump.  Plausible of course, since I’m fun-sized and the ropes are giant sized.

Lesson learned:  do more kegels.

Why I need my own gloves

22 Aug

Sure it’s hard, but I love boxing class at the gym.  We do circuit training, it’s not just hitting the pads for a bit then having a relax.  No, we go hard on the pads, then do squats or lunges or bunny hops or sit ups, push ups, etc, then go hard on the pads again.  Boy do we sweat though!

Sweating is usually a good thing when you’re working out, but when you’re using the gym’s boxing gloves that countless other people have used and you’re sharing them with your boxing partner, sweat is not such a good thing.  When I put my hands into boxing gloves, I expect them to be clean, cold, dry, and if I’m really lucky, smelling like daisies.  Instead, when I put my hands in those boxing gloves, I get wet, warm, sticky fabric clinging to my hands.  When I take my hands out, they stink.  It smells like someone has put the sweat from a hundred people’s butt cracks into one innocent little boxing glove and then left it out in the sun to ferment for a couple of weeks.  Now that stench is clinging to my hands.  I don’t really want to wipe it on my pants because then it will be on my pants.  I wonder how often the gym washes the gloves.  Ewww…..  I think it’s time to buy my own.  Sure, they may still get smelly and hot and sticky, but at least that way, I’ll know it’s only my sweat, and I can wash them as soon as I get home.

Zumba explosion

19 Aug

I’m not sure if the craze is actually taking over the world, but the commercials would certainly have us think so.  I’m talking about Zumba (“this is a Zumba body”).

My gym recently started offering Zumba classes, so I thought, “why not, it looks pretty fun.”  It just figures that the gym’s air-conditioning was broken.  The room was hot and stuffy.  Oh well, I suppose that just makes the workout harder.  Before the music started, an mistakeable stench entered my nostrils.  Someone nearby had farted.  It wasn’t audible, but it was certainly deadly.  I hope no one thought it was me (FYI, it was not).  I couldn’t move, then people would think it was me.  No, I was stuck there, in the hot stuffy room, with the air from someone elses bottom wafting into my nostrils (EW!).

The instructor showed us some of the moves and then the music started.  It has never been more obvious that I am totally, ridiculously, completely un-rhythmic.  While everyone else resembled a scene from the zumba commercial, I looked more like a limp piece of pasta desperately trying to escape someone’s dinner plate.

Yeah, I may not being awesome (or even remotely good) at Zumba, it’s fun, and it gets my heart pumping, so I’ll be back next week, to make a fool of myself once again.

I think my arms are going to fall off

2 Aug

I started going to the gym a while back, maybe a month ago.   I’ve been doing a program of weights, then treadmill or cross trainer, followed by the dreaded plank (Pilates move, not a thing), crunches,  and some targeted hip work.  I thought I was doing quite well, getting fit, making progress.  Then I did a boxing class.  I didn’t know I had so many muscles in my arms (not that they’re big, I just mean that my poor excuse for such muscles are part of my anatomy).  I think that maybe, just maybe, my arms will fall off.  That’s what they feel like anyway.  Even my wrists are sore.  Yesterday my arms were shaking while I was trying to do, well, anything.  Pour some milk?  Not very well.  Write a note.  Not that’s legible.   I would prefer to be doing a body combat class, but no one but me ever turned up for that class, so it never actually ran.  Plus I think if I had taken that class, I wouldn’t only feel like my arms are about to fall off, but probably my butt, and legs too.  And maybe my back.  Maybe I’d just feel like I’d turn into a big puddle, and I’d probably look like I sat on some unfortunate large object.  Oh, and just so you aren’t worried about my nose turning into mincemeat, and my ears to cauliflower, the boxing is just a class at my gym, we don’t box each other, just the pads.

On another note, I can finally fit into the one pair of jeans that was tight on me before I got pregnant.  Not that long ago, I couldn’t even get them past my butt.  Now, I can pull them all the way on (mind you, it still takes some maneuvering, but then again, it always has), button them, and actually walk around.  I guess my month of gym work is working after all.

Saturday was The Jess’ hens night, which gave me the perfect opportunity to try something new: Pole dancing.  I can’t say I’m especially graceful, but it was very fun, and surprising hard.

You probably won’t hear from me much this week as it’s the week before The Jess’ wedding, and as Matron of Honour, I still have a lot to do.  Plus I volunteered myself for cake making duties.  That’s right, I’m actually making the wedding cake.  It’s not the first time I’ve made a wedding cake, I made mine too, but someone else decorated mine.  I’m doing the decorating for The Jess’ cake as well as making it from scratch.  Deep breath…wish me luck.

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