Whip what, exactly?
…well, what did you think I was implying with that title?
After a weight-loss plateau that spanned several months, despite my best efforts, I finally busted through and have lost four pounds. I’m in the 130′s for the first time since the first trimester! I’d love to get back to about 120-125 by the time Ethan is a year old. It’s five months away, so that gives me plenty of time (and a buffer for the holidays).
I’m not really one for counting calories, so I’m just trying to eat sensibly – with the exception of the unreasonable amount of pretzel bark I just inhaled, whoops – and make sure I’m moving around a lot. With a baby who has just started scoot-crawling, that’s not hard! I try to do a little yoga in the morning and again at night, make sure I do at least 15 minutes of cardio each day (which is often just me doing jumping jacks, which Ethan finds hilarious, then dancing around with him in my arms), then I just keep moving around as much as possible. It forces me to be productive, that’s for sure, and I am finding that now I don’t like being sedentary at all. While I used to be content to just sit for hours and hours on end, now I get incredibly antsy once I hit the 45-minute mark. When I’m watching TV, I find myself bouncing up at the commercial breaks and straightening this or tidying that or doing a few crunches.
It’s weird. I was always the kid who hated gym class. I dreaded running the mile because I knew not only would my time be abysmal, my not-yet-surgically-reduced chest would cause utter agony the next day. When I was little, I was very active, but as my body changed, I found it to be more trouble than it was worth. Why do a workout one day when it means I’ll feel like my back is breaking for the next three? For a while after I had Ethan, that line of thinking returned. It is difficult to justify exercising when it truly hurts. And it is difficult to justify exercising when everyone keeps telling you to rest whenever you can (and when that’s really all you want to do). But I’m telling you – even if you can’t get to the gym four times a week, and even if you have absolutely no desire to pop in one of those insane workout DVDs, just move. Wiggle around. Stand up at least once an hour. It makes a huge difference. It’s subtle – don’t expect to gain a six-pack from something like this – but I can’t believe how much I feel like myself now.
I think that, more than anything, makes it worth the extra effort. When I really don’t feel like getting off my butt, I just think about how nice it will be to feel like my pre-pregnancy self once more. I still have a long way to go before a new wardrobe is in the cards, but when that day comes? Look out. Mama’s going shopping.