When I was in highschool I used to participate in icecream eating competitions. I would like to say that I won the grandfinal, but Clare 'Spaghetti' Luchetti holds that record. Needless to say however, as president of the Monte Sant' Angelo Mercy College 10,000Lb club, I had myself a healthy appetite back in my highschool days.
And I still do.
And as my breastfeeding days are numbered I am beginning to wonder how on earth I will be satisfied with a standard portion size. How will I rationalise my daily block of chocolate, no longer needed for the 'energy' to feed my baby?
To prepare myself for the D-Day of breastfeeding, I have dusted off my trainers and taken up exercise. Exercise, yes - but certainly not as I remember it. Now, as I do my squats and lunges I have one ear listening out for my baby's cry, and one eye sneaking cautious peeks at my breasts to see whether they might (embarrassingly) be leaking. Am I the only one out there who feels like working out is now a whole new ballgame?
An expat friend of mine living in Poland once observed that it was difficult to find an attractive middle-aged Eastern European woman. When I scoffed at this, he went on to state that he believed there was an invisible production line for Polish women. They started on the production line as tall, blonde, silky-skinned stunners and cruised along happily until they came to the bend on the line. The bend, he believed, was called Motherhood. As the women entered this next stage of production, they emerged shorter, chubbier, ruddier, and decidedly more grey.
It got me wondering.... Have I unknowingly been plodding along the production line of motherdom? Is it the fear of becoming old that makes us push ourselves to pump iron right after we've pumped milk? What's wrong with embracing the physical changes that motherhood can bring us - a couple of saggy breasts, a slightly flabby tum, a bottom that is decidedly more pear-like than peach-like.
Or are we right to fight so hard to return to our pre-baby bodies? Should we do all within our powers to fool the world into thinking "she couldn't possibly have had a baby recently."
Look, I'm the first one to admit that health is super important. Eating well and exercising everyday is a must. But nowadays we see women haemorrhaging money on pilates classes, bodypump, and Zumba while their babies sit in childcare, and it has me questioning: is it really a question of health or is it a question of vanity?
I have always been an athlete. I have a competitive drive that is bordering on aggressive. I'm an advocate of moving every single day and I will undoubtedly return to basketball arenas and football fields of my youth (as and when time allows). Meanwhile, I will continue the mountain/bush trekking that my partner and I love so much. And I will continue to carry my baby in her bjorn, push her in her pram, and lift her repeatedly into the air to make her giggle. Exercise suddenly has a whole new spin on it for me - it's about what I can do with my child, not just what I can do with myself.
I hope that I haven't yet reached that bend in the production line, but I'm not going to die of shame that I've got a few kilos of my own babyfat to lose either. I'm not knocking post-natal fitness of any sort (in fact, www.yoganic.com.au runs some fabulous classes) all I'm questioning is our motivators behind the exercise, and what it is, exactly, that gets us off our butts and into the training room?
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