Buns of... firmness!
I couldn't bring myself to aim for "steel" - however, I am aiming for something more robust and ...further from the ground. (I fondly remember an old Sally Forth comic where she asks her husband to measure the distance from her butt to the ground to see if it's sagging. He, being the clever pumpkin, suddenly remembers an important engagement elsewhere in the house. No wonder men love garages).
Anyway, back to me: I've hired a personal trainer! Inspired by my friend S, the Queen of Determination, I have followed her good example and decided to start coaxing my body into some semblance of fitness - mainly to train for the birthing marathon I'll be involuntarily participating in sometime in April.
What would runners do if they were told: some time in a four-week window, you will have to run for anywhere from 6 to 36 hours, and you're not allowed to stop. We might make you start in the middle of the night. We won't tell you in advance how long the race will be. We won't tell you what the terrain will look like. If you finish succesfully, you'll be rewarded with a completely helpless creature who depends solely on you for its survival. And to top it off, we'll make sure you're deprived of sleep for the next year or so.... Odd thing, Nature. She does stack the deck a bit by making babies indescribably cute, and flooding moms with baby-loving hormones, but the more I learn about pregnancy and child birth, I continue to marvel that the human race (giggle) succeeds in propagating at all.
So anyway, the trainer is in charge of whipping me into shape, mostly core, butt and leg work, and flexibility (of the leg-spreading kind. smirk.) I don't have to contend with staring jocks since I'll be at home, but I will have the usual insidious motivational gremlins haunting me. I'm not sure how often to make appointments with her, but I suspect two weeks will be as long as I can manage without falling off the wagon.
First class is next Thursday, so I'll be cleaning the basement this weekend to eliminate embarrassing armies of dust bunnies and old cat puke (don't ask).
Anyway, back to me: I've hired a personal trainer! Inspired by my friend S, the Queen of Determination, I have followed her good example and decided to start coaxing my body into some semblance of fitness - mainly to train for the birthing marathon I'll be involuntarily participating in sometime in April.
What would runners do if they were told: some time in a four-week window, you will have to run for anywhere from 6 to 36 hours, and you're not allowed to stop. We might make you start in the middle of the night. We won't tell you in advance how long the race will be. We won't tell you what the terrain will look like. If you finish succesfully, you'll be rewarded with a completely helpless creature who depends solely on you for its survival. And to top it off, we'll make sure you're deprived of sleep for the next year or so.... Odd thing, Nature. She does stack the deck a bit by making babies indescribably cute, and flooding moms with baby-loving hormones, but the more I learn about pregnancy and child birth, I continue to marvel that the human race (giggle) succeeds in propagating at all.
So anyway, the trainer is in charge of whipping me into shape, mostly core, butt and leg work, and flexibility (of the leg-spreading kind. smirk.) I don't have to contend with staring jocks since I'll be at home, but I will have the usual insidious motivational gremlins haunting me. I'm not sure how often to make appointments with her, but I suspect two weeks will be as long as I can manage without falling off the wagon.
First class is next Thursday, so I'll be cleaning the basement this weekend to eliminate embarrassing armies of dust bunnies and old cat puke (don't ask).
posted by zouzou at 1:46 p.m.
2 Comments:
You hired a trainer?! Rock on! I'm sure you have no idea what you're in for, but hell, girl, anything that helps you prepare for childbirth is worth the time and the money. (Not that I'd know, but this is me giving you my vote of full confidence!)
If you're going to be training at home, you won't have any of the hideously embarrassing moments in public. (Not that you would, of course... I can take care of that for both of us...)
Anyway, you GO grrrlfriend! I'm sooooo proud of you!
Go - Zou - Zou!! Go - Zou - Zou!!!
Oh ya... and as for frequency... if you're worried about falling off the wagon... once a WEEK, dah-ling! Not once every two!
(Insert sound of cracking whip here...)
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