When I was young
Thanks to my husband who practices perfect fatherhood and takes care of Schmatzi all by himself, I have enrolled in an exercise class at the Y every Saturday morning. It's called Cardio Funk and is supposed to be a cardio class with dance moves or something like that. I used to take "real" dance classes but since I moved to Indiana I had to give up on that hobby since because in Indiana nobody older than 13 takes dance classes and I felt a little weird hopping around a bunch of almost-teenage girls in their cutesy outfits (think elephant among pink tutus).
First I thought a fake dance class for the masses is just a bad alternative but then - I can't really afford to be arrogant and stuck-up (as I'd like to be) in this situation so I looked in the mirror and said to myself: Who are you kidding? Look at yourself. You fit better into a class about ancient fertility symbols (think Venus von Willendorf) than about dance. Fake dancing is just about right.
And so I went and to my surprise the class is a lot of fun thanks to a very talented and energetic instructor. Still, trying to unify the outdated mental image of my body and the actual vision in the mirror was somewhat of a challenge. A glance here and there to verify if my arms and legs were doing the same thing as the instructor's messed up my steps every time. Dear Lord, is this me? Where is the grace, the confidence... the energy? Oh it is time to cry... at least that's what my body was trying to tell me after the first 10 minutes: "What in the world do you think you're doing?! Since when are we doing cardio? You just added 40 lbs in 9 months, then lost 20 in one week and another 7 in the following months, never sleeping through the night and producing the entire nutrition for a 3-month-old and now we're supposed to just dance our way through 45 minutes of "cardio funk"? You MUST be joking. What a silly name anyway!"
Oh well. I am trying to think positive and believe that one day I will again think that this is a very natural activity for my body. On one hand I am literally on an emotional high using my body for frivolous useless movement and not being used for feeding, sleeping, comfort or simply as a chair, on the other I just want to lie down and die concluding that it is just impossible to be a mother and a regular person at the same time. Only time will tell.
Posted at 07:08 PM on November 09, 2003
Dinka,
You know every time you take a new type of aerobics, it is really hard the first time around to pick up the moves right away. I took dance for years also and consider myself pretty coordinated and was step instructor, but even then, the first time I took a cardio kick boxing class, I was very confused. I would love to take a Funk-aerobics class, but have not gotten up the courage yet for that very reason. Do not be so hard on yourself.
So I'd like read a bit more about your definition of a "regular person" in your last paragraph. ;)
The definition of a mother should be quite clear.
well, you know, regular people eat uninterrupted meals. if they want to take up a class, they schedule it and go. they come and go as they please...
;)
Have you ever tried Yoga? I was skeptical, but me and my husband started it. The nice thing is you can do it anywhere at any time. I can't rave enough about how it has helped me recover from my surgery earlier this year. My husband can now do all the funky poses like head stands, handstands, crows and lots of the weird ones. I am just starting to get the crow.
I am so excited at how it is making my body develope and do things I thought I never could (plus I never though MY husband would be doing free standing head and handstands).
I can't encourage anyone enough to give it a try. If I can be doing this stuff anyone can, and it makes you feel great!
Dinka, trust me, the comparison with the "Venus of Willendorf" is a complete exaggeration! And from me, who always called you fat, this means something!!