There was a moment when I was getting out of the bath soon after the little fella was born. Leaning over the edge, I caught my reflection in the water as it seeped down the drain. What did I see? Pizza dough.
Yes, pizza dough. Great big soft round handfuls of pizza dough, all ready for the oven. There wasn’t much to say or do at that moment, just watch the water seep out in silence.
I was sick
The birth wasn’t the easiest one, which is a very nice way of saying it was bloody horrible with a lot of aftereffects. It is almost six months afterwards and exercise is only now becoming an option. I say becoming in the vaguest sense, in that I don’t think I’ve ever been this out of shape. I was also fighting an infection for most of those six months, so I was quite weak as well. Exercise wasn’t an option.
So here I am with my car crash of a body. I’ve never been this out of shape, nor have I ever been this large. I’m large, fat, round, bigger than I’ve ever been before. No clothes I have fit me, and I find that my attitude to clothes is curiously freed; I’m going to look fat no matter what I wear, I may as well look tailored at it.
My plans to improve and why I haven’t started yet.
I have been sick, but I’ve also been breastfeeding. This has been successful after a tricky start, and now, frankly, the child is a bowser. He is a good weight and height, and showing excellent development (he is nearly standing, and is saying ‘Mama’, at five and a half months). Any attempt at dieting before he is weaned would mean a reduction in the amount of milk I’d produce daily, but as it is almost time to wean him off I can start thinking about diet and exercise.
I have a lot of weight to lose. A lot. If I am honest, it would be about fifty pounds of weight. You wouldn’t carry that amount of weight on holiday, so why should I go ahead and carry it now? I’ll need to eat less, and to eat less sugar and carbs; heck, even portion control would make a difference. I would love to do Keto, with a cheat day once a week, but I don’t think that would be allowed.
In terms of exercise, I plan to treat myself to membership of the brand new Olympic-length swimming pool at UCD when I am back at work. Back in the long, long ago, children, I used to swim three times a week. The pool in that case was a 22 meter pool and I could swim 25 laps (two lengths) in 30 minutes, and still be back at my desk by 2pm. If I could even maintain a three time a week schedule to start with I would be happy with that; I’ve told myself I would look for two laps, three times a week, and look for no more than that fro me (I’m still going to have to be back at my desk by 2pm, and take care of my baby in the evening, so slowly is the rule here).
Help and Support
The best way to do this, I have found, is to make a change of such a gradual nature that no specific ‘help’ is needed. However, keeping going is the big kicker. I may, at times, ask you all for a bit of a push, just to keep going….
Girl, if you want me to wear pom-poms and stand beside the pool shrieking ‘Gooooo Claire!’ at you, I’ll do it. Just one thing I will ask of you and this is it: Take It Easy On Yourself. Emotionally, physically, and every other way. xxx