30w6d - Physical Fitness Fail

My God, I am full of good ideas. Full of reason, too. I've heard that you should exercise consistently through your pregnancy and so I've been to prenatal yoga three times, all during my second trimester. There's consistency for you. Any Google device or basic pregnancy book will tell you that you should not introduce any wildly new exercise regiments during your pregnancy and I think they might all read "and especially not during your third trimester, genius." But you know me, I'm all "fuck the establishment, I do what I want." (Ha, not really. Haven't touched a turkey sandwich or a fully caffeinated coffee since two lines showed up. The few times I've had a nip of delicious red wine, I've convinced myself of decreased fetal movement. Typically, j'adore rules.)

With my newfound damn-the-man attitude, I signed up for a class at the new Pure Barre studio. Pure Barre is like Bar Method or any of the other handful of ballet barre based exercise regimes. I didn't know what that meant but perhaps some of you do. The following thought synopsis explains why I chose to stomp through the snow to administer a little self-torture at 30 weeks.

1. I need to get my ass in gear or I will die in childbirth like it's the Middle Ages. Buns, thighs, and a pelvic floor of steel can probably be achieved easily in the next 8 weeks with a simple and shockingly expensive workout routine.
2. I have no energy. I'll potentially have more energy if I start working out... NOW. (I optimistically signed up for a second class prior to taking the first. Promptly cancelled.)
3. I used to be a reasonably accomplished ballet dancer. Pure Barre will be just like ballet class and all the physical fitness and coordination I posessed when I was 16 will come flooding back. That happens. It's science. Especially during pregnancy.

So, I mean, I really thought this whole thing through. I thought we'd stand at the bar the whole time, listen to classical music or something new agey, and do ballet-like movements to burn our buns. Not at all, Bob, not at all. First off, the class was packed. Music starts and it is throbbing club music. We are in "da club" and I am visibly, awkwardly pregnant. I feel like a pregnant lady in an ill-fitting tank top in a club because basically, that's what I am. If you've seen Knocked Up, it was basically like that except for A) they let me in and B) I was wearing no makeup and the shabbiest stretchy clothes I could find that would fit over my ass, boobs and belly.* Class did not start at the barre. After a brief warm up, the teacher put us flat on our backs for abdominal work. Vena cava compression time. I half-assed the ab work and sat up frequently to ensure oxygenated blood flow to my fetus who, at this early point, was audibly saying "What. The. Fuck." I don't blame him. We've had such a good, relaxing and spacious run until I decided to compress him so that I could have a prego six pack. We eventually moved to the barre, all was good, and then moved right back to the floor for the continuation of the abdominal series. I asked ahead of time if it was fine for pregnant ladies to take the class. The owner assured me it was with a few obvious modifications that she rambled through in 10 seconds. Perhaps, had I been doing Pure Barre for my whole pregnancy, I would have been more comfortable with said modifications. Not the case. I took several self-imposed time outs where I sat cross legged on the floor and wondered why I had donated money to this ridiculous cause. What's wrong with a brisk walk and some prenatal yoga? Nothing. Nothing at all.

I survived. Fetus survived. We went home and complained a lot. Then, crazy me, I had a restless night of shitty dreams where I worried about baby boy. Really, you shouldn't compress a fetus like that. I'm sure of it. I know that abdominal work is safe and encouraged but by god there are limits.

I bet you kids do Pure Barre all the time. I bet you were doing squats at the barre while you gave birth. Good for you. I've gotten a D+ on physical fitness during this pregnancy. I've made a real effort to go on walks and, like I boasted, have made it to 3 whole prenatal yoga classes. Whatever. I'm cooking a baby. I'm busy. Cutting myself some slack now.


*I have been losing clothing - specifically my forgiving yoga pants - throughout pregnancy. I have blamed my husband on several occasions. This is obvious sabotage!!! He thinks I'm nuts and I say he's bad at laundry management (he has 43 individual socks and none of them match). We're both right.

Several of you requested a bump photo. I decided to hire the most expensive photographer and stylist I knew. Sadly, it all fell through. Here's a photo of me in my office bathroom earlier this week, wearing a clip art lucha libre mask. Little known fact: I am really good at doing my hair.

30 weeks. Viva la lucha.