Sunday, December 11, 2011

(2 Karats and a Kid) This da** kangaroo pouch....

Mommy-ism #17:  The only thing standing between you and the body that you want isn't your time or the baby, it's cupcakes.

Confession:  It seems as though I've let myself go.

There, I said it.

I can admit it because in 2012 - the year that is going to be the most kicka**stic year of them all - I am determined to change my healthy habits. Truth is, I tried to return back into my pre-pregnancy workout regime around 8 weeks post-partum.  I had always been a fit person. The most weight I had gained since college was four pounds during a cookie-eating binge phase while in graduate school.  So my point is, I usually could lose 5 pounds just by blinking my eyes twice and wishing for it to be gone.

So when I walked into my cardio kickbox class after my 10 month pregnancy, I was pumped and ready to sweat off the last ten pounds from my pregnancy in an hour's time.   The bass in the music pulsated throughout the room.  The other women were stretching.   My heart began to race before I had even began to move.

This is it, I thought.  Time to kick this baby fat's ass.

The instructor called us all to take our positions on the floor.  The cardio kickbox warmup has always been a piece of cake.  30 right hooks, 30 left hooks, 30 left leg neck-breakers, 30 right leg neck breakers...repeat.

Marky Mark's voice came over the speaker:

It's such a good vibration.
It's such a sweet sensation.
Feel the vibration.
Come on. Come on.

I started out strong.  I got the encouraging head nod from the instructor that indicated that she too, thought that I was kicking ass.

Then the right hooks started.  Suddenly out of breath, I began to wonder how much time had passed since the class had started.  15 minutes?  30 minutes? 

When I spotted the clock on the other side of the room, I couldn't believe that only 5 minutes had passed.  My heart was pounding outside of my chest.  By the time the neck breakers started, I was gripping my side looking for the water fountain and the nearest Starbucks because only a soy white chocolate mocha could cure the defeat I was experiencing.

Somehow, I made it through that first session back in the gym.  However, I haven't been back since. 

Initially my lack of physical activity hadn't been a problem because I was breastfeeding.  Whatever I ate - fruit, cookies, sushi, or chicken - went in through my mouth and out through my tit.  It was marvelous, until I started to begin to wean my son from the boobs around the time he was 8 months.

In the course of the one week (post-weening) I put on five pounds...and it didn't go anywhere.  Putting on 3-4 pounds over the course of a weekend wasn't unusual for me but the inability to loose that weight throughout the week was something that I wasn't prepared for.  So now I'm stuck with an extra 5 pounds of meat around my waist that no spanx, girdle, or tight jeans can hide.

So now I have this da*n kangaroo pouch and a fear of cardio kickboxing and I don't know what to do to get rid of it.  So I've tried to become far more accepting of my voluptuous curves.  Yes, my six pack of gloriousness has turned into a little Pillsbury roll of muffins around by tummy.  The upside is that I have alot more booty and an inch more of hips that seems to make my husband happy.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Design by A Mommy's Blog Design (© Copyright 2012)