There’s this funny video going around of moms doing all sorts of things in their ‘activewear’ except actually exercising. It’s kind of like when you pop into Pick ‘n Pay and enviously gaze over at Skinny Mommy Number 1 who is wearing a gorgeous ensemble in pretty colours, but then the lack of any workout sheen seems to belie the fact that she was indeed exercising before shopping.
I did see one woman leaving The Village the other day in an all black designer gym outift complete with silver Prada handbag, and I assumed she probably had her own personal trainer on-call to her mansion’s gym room. Me, not so much.
I ventured to the gym last week for the first time in months. MONTHS I TELL YOU. In January this year I was still vaguely entertaining the idea that I could ride the Cape Town Cycle Tour in March, but my gynae wisely recommended that since I was pregnant, it would best to be a sideline supporter. I gave up my half-hearted spin classes without too much of a fight I must be honest. There went Tour Number 7.
But basically since then, I have hardly done a stitch of proper exercise and that includes running after a toddler with a huge belly. So I summoned up my will power last Thursday and discovered that my gym t-shirts show my tummy and my sports bras no longer fit. I ended up in an Ikey Tiger ‘Back Your Boytjies’ top from my husband’s drawer and my nursing bra pulled tighter than normal. I was ready.
To be honest, I felt SO good after that gym session. To feel the natural release of endorphins into my system, the feel of blood pumping through my body and the sheen of sweat on my brow, well, I realised I can do this. I can be a fit mom in my #activewear.
The very next day I bought a brand new luminous pink sports bra and some fancy print gym pants and this morning, I hit the 9.30am Pilates class with a vengeance. I think I’m going to hurt tomorrow, but at least I’m on the right track.
Next up, Whole30.