Not So Fit, Fitspo Part 1

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I feel like this has been coming for a while, I keep seeing so many posts and there are so many opinions out there and so much hate around the subject, and I’m prepared to get some interesting comments.

 

Post-partum bodies.

 

What are they meant to look like? Am I too fat? Am I too skinny? What do you and don’t you do? What do you eat? What programs do you follow? How do you get the motivation? Why don’t I look like Kendall Jenner?

 

Over the last 19 months and even when I was pregnant I’ve been called “skinny” and “lucky”.  I’ve come to hate those words.

 

I’ve been made to feel guilty by other women because I’m not bigger and even because I have the time to go to the gym.

 

I have been asked countless times how I did it, what the secret is to bouncing back. Well, I’m about to tell you.

 

Hard work.

 

As people know I keep myself busy, by being active, being in the hospital made me feel so stuck and so lonely that when I left I couldn’t wait to get my body moving. I started walking a week after Veyda was born, not for very long as I was still recovering, but long enough so that I felt free from my confines. When I returned to Para it was just cooling down from the never-ending summers we have up there. So, the mornings were bliss! Since my mum had gone back to work I was stuck in the house all day everyday with nowhere to go (as are most mothers). So, I’d get up, get dressed and walk my 6kms every day. I wasn’t walking to lose weight, I was walking to escape my solitude. I walked so that I could talk to my best friend every day, I walked so that I could breathe fresh air, and occasionally swallow a fly. I breast fed Veyda, so to be honest the walk was the longest period of time that I didn’t have to hold her. It was amazing. I was dropping weight, and I felt better every time I looked in the mirror if I’m honest. I’m not telling you to walk 6kms a day to lose weight. I’m just being honest with how I got to where I am. My soul purpose was to have a freakin’ break.

 

When my walks would end I would make a smoothie bowl or just something light and fruity, purely because I knew it would make me feel good, and I was pretty hot after so I would want something cold. I don’t know if it was because I was breastfeeding or what but I just drank a shit tonne of water. Being in hospital after having Veyda, I had to keep my catheter in for a couple extra days. Know what I did? I drank a soooooo much water because for the first time in 38 weeks I didn’t have to waddle to the toilet after half a sip! It was amaaaazing.

 

As the weather got warmer my walks would dwindle. Did you know it’s possible to get heat stroke at 7am? It is.

 

I had been thinking about getting a gym membership for a while but my confidence would get in the way. I was scared people would look and I would look like an idiot trying to operate the leg press, or get crushed. The thought of walking in by myself scared the shit out of me. So, a friend invited me to go to the gym with her. I was so excited, we had so much fun! She made me feel confident and weights didn’t scare me so much! It wasn’t until I went to the Pink Ribbon dinner that I plucked up the courage to bid on a membership at the silent auction. It was in my price range, and I felt my confidence sky rocket. One thing did put a damper on my excitement… I had two women say to me “What are you bidding for, leave the membership for the people who need it, you’re skinny.” I know they meant it as an innocent joke but of course I took it to heart I’m a sensitive person, what do you want from me? Just because I was skinny didn’t mean I didn’t want to go to the gym and that I was less deserving. I had been walking for months, I wanted to see what I was capable of, I needed more than a walk or the odd gym session that my friend would sneak me in for, I wanted a challenge, I wanted more time to myself. So, of course, I won. Because as people know, I’m competitive as shiiiiit.

 

I would have to wait until Veyda would go to sleep at night, which would be anytime from 630-9pm. I would duck into mum’s room and whisper “She’s asleep, text me if she wakes up.” And off I’d go to the gym. I knew I’d have maybe an hour and a half until Veyda would wake. But I wanted the freedom bad enough that no matter what the time was I went.

 

When I first walked in, it was empty. I felt confident already, and I put my body to work, and I haven’t looked back.

 

I went to the gym to do something for myself, not because I wanted to look a certain way. Sure, I’d see pictures of girls with nice butts and I’d say to myself “Hmm maybe a couple of squats won’t hurt…” (They do by the way, but that booty poppin’) Being able to squat 100kg even for one rep is so empowering! For so long we’ve been told that weights are for men. Well, let me tell you, some women are proving that wrong! I worked out every day, because I LOVED IT! Not once did I feel obligated or like it was a chore. If you feel like working out feels like a chore, then I honestly don’t think you’re doing it for the right reasons. Because you “want to look like Kim Kardashian” is not a good enough reason. I won’t let anyone tell me otherwise. You need to dig a little deeper to find your real source of motivation, otherwise you’re fighting an uphill battle.

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