Bladder Workout at the Gym
This is exactly what I look like when I work out.

I passed my glucose test! The whole thing frightened me (that and the fat comments I’ve received), and so I resolved to get regular exercise again after a month of being sick and enjoying the Christmas cookies that have been gifted to me.

Although this fall and winter have been unseasonably dry for the musty Northwest, it seems that our luck has run out.  The heavens have opened, the rain poureth down, and the locals are dusting off their arks from last year’s fall/winter/spring monsoon.   If my raincoat would fit over my belly, perhaps I would continue walking outside, but since it doesn’t I dragged myself to my gym this morning.  Since my 3rd trimester is only a week and a half away, this is what my hour-long workout looks like these days:

  • 9:00 a.m. – Mount the elliptical trainer
  • 9:15 a.m. – Dismount the elliptical trainer.  Run to the bathroom.
  • 9:20 a.m. – Resume elliptical trainer.
  • 9:25 a.m. – Dismount elliptical trainer.  Run to the bathroom.
  • 9:30 a.m. – Gulp water.
  • 9:32 a.m. – Resume elliptical trainer.
  • 9:50 a.m. – Dismount elliptical trainer.  Run to the bathroom.

You get the idea.

I also discovered that I cannot touch my toes – not because I am not flexible (thank you, relaxin!) but because my ponderous belly blocks access to my feet.  After flailing around on the stretching area for several minutes, I had to walk on my knees to the stretching rail in order to pull myself up to my feet.  Very undignified!  All of this has reminded me of some wise words a friend once said to me, words that have helped me view this whole pregnancy thing with humor: Being pregnant is the most ridiculous time of your life, so you may as well laugh at yourself.

Watching other people react to my presence at the gym is a good way to pass the time.  Fellow female gym rats ignore me.  Male gym rats do a double take and then try to stare discreetly via the wall mirrors.  I know they are working it out in their heads is she pregnant, or just very odd-shaped?  Their confusion turns to outright panic and terror when I approach the weight machines and begin lifting.  I can see it in their eyes:  Oh God oh God!  What if she goes into labor right now?

Sugar Lump (nickname we gave the baby months ago) for his part seems to stay dormant while I exercise.  Of course, the minute I start to feel hungry he begins his own womb-workout: kickboxing.


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