There are some pictures of me three months after Malachi was born, wearing a shirt I specifically bought for the postpartum stage, having no clue that my stomach looked…how shall I put this?…disgusting jiggly poochy flabby nevermind.
This time around I’m avoiding this by A) dressing a heck of a lot better (and if I actually look ridic and you aren’t telling me to protect the clueless, stop.) and B) exercising for 10 minutes 3 times a week. Yeah, I know. 10 minutes is hardly something to write home about, but let’s just say today was day 2 and I feel like my stomach is going to rip in half so it’s working I hope.
So anyway, after completing my round of kneeling heel twists, plank walk-ups, forearm plank swipes, wipe-aways, and v-sit pull-backs I thought, “I’ll just throw in 10 sit-ups. How hard can that be?”
Stop laughing.
Sit-up one: I got about two inches off the ground and lifted my arms straight up and lurched myself forward. Don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work.
Sit-up two: Determined to keep my hands behind my head, I lurched forward again but somehow my elbows ended up in front of my chest.
Sit-up three: I kept my hands behind my head by bringing my knees towards my face.
Sit-up four: I realized I wasn’t going to make it to ten.
Sit-up five: I determined I could do one just ONE sit up correctly. I remember racing my sister to see who could do the most in one minute! This is ridiculous! So with hands clenched firmly behind head and feet wedged under the couch, I gritted my teeth and made it about 5 inches off the ground.
I’m done.
authenticisms 