Do more kegels

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.

I think my arms are going to fall off

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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