Gym Time With a Baby on Board

I like to work out.  I really honestly don’t mind it. There’s always just the hurdle of making it into a part of the everyday routine of life.
Cue the “Circle of Life”, Lion King style.

It’s hard enough to make it to the gym sometimes when pregnancy isn’t a factor, so add a growing baby bump to the equation and I’m fairly certain I should get an award for just getting in the car and heading that direction.  (Another award should be given IF I’ve remembered everything I need on my way out the door and don’t have to do the mid-driveway stop and reverse tactic to run back in and grab either headphones or a bottle of water or run for an emergency pee.)

With that said – I’m not some crazy gym rat that despite being pregnant hasn’t missed a workout and wants a metophorical pat on the back.  I’ve missed a slew of them. Too many to count. More than I’d like to admit.

I do however, make it to the gym. So there.

Whilst at the gym yesterday, some things occurred to me.  A giant lightbulb went off!

I picked this lightbulb because it somehow exuded a little bit of a punk attitude.  Can a lightbulb exude attitude? Absolutely.

I picked this lightbulb because it somehow exuded a little bit of a punk attitude. Can a lightbulb exude attitude? Absolutely.

My 1st Ah-Ha Moment:
I can only effectively and safely do about half of what I would normally do at the gym.  Lately, I can (at times) only do a third of what I used to do.  Why do I still have to pay full price?  

AHHHH! Do you hear me LA Fitness?? Could you help me out a bit?? 

Now, I know that my argument of “pregnant women can only do a fraction of what their former selves could” would not settle well with feminists, unrealistic women who have not yet hit 30+ weeks pregnant, and men.

It is however just some food for thought. Munch on it.

My 2nd Mind Boggler was this:
Why am I the only pregnant person in the gym, ever? 

Okay, maybe not ever, but I’ve only seen one other lady with a visible baby bump ONCE.  Once. That’s it!  (&& It was small enough that she could just be one of the unfortunate few who carry their extra weight in a most confusing way.)
Where are all the pregnant ladies that want to stay in some kind of decent physical condition?  I can’t imagine how awful I’d feel right now if I had just stopped moving altogether once pregnancy was a part of my reality.

I feel like everyone talks about how badly they’d like to get their pre-preggo body back… but isn’t maintaining a bit of your physical endurance and conditioning while pregnant a large part of that puzzle?  Interesting… yet another case of “we want all the results with no handwork”.  This momma-to-be don’t play that. K?

That’s my soapbox…

I clearly spent too much time thinking while on the treadmill yesterday so that I could avoid reading the Closed Captioned episode of Dr. Phil that was on the monitor in front of me. YUCK. No. Thank. You.

(This post is in no way intended to make anyone feel bad about not working out while pregnant.  There are a multitude of extenuating circumstances for many women during pregnancy and I’m just lucky enough to not have to go through them.  Love to all… T)
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There’s a Pineapple In WHERE??

According to some person with a sick sense of humor… Baby at 31 weeks is the size of a Pineapple.  It’s not that I’m opposed to pineapple, it’s an awesome, yummy, juicy tropical fruit.

But

A pineapple in my uterus.  Not a comforting or appealing thought, really.

This is apparently the best they could come up with in the terrifying fruit comparison department.

This is apparently the best they could come up with in the terrifying fruit comparison department.

All I can think of are those tiny little spiky scales on the side of the fruit (Fun Fact: The more scales the juicier the fruit!) and the giant, imposing spiked leaves on top. Does that sound like anything you’d like anywhere near your insides?  Let alone how you’d like to picture you’re future child? … I think NOT! 

Please, dear writers of theBump.com, think before you Fruitify my child.