Exercise, YouTube & Peer Motivation

I’ve always had a laissez-faire relationship with exercise. My approach has generally been more of the I’ll eat this burger and hopefully it will turn into a six-pack sort of thing. It worked in my 20s. It doesn’t work now. Three children and hitting my dirty-thirty have required me to change my attitude.

I had a year-long fling with a gym once, which resulted in me weighing the most I have ever weighed in my life. (It wasn’t muscle. It was rolls.) This is probably due to the fact that I would go jog on the Elliptical machine for half an hour, burn 300 calories, and then reward myself with a meal from Jack in the Box which consisted of approximately 3,978 calories. You can see the problem. Most people look their best in their wedding photos—my face was perfectly round and my thighs rubbed against each other (luckily the sound was covered by the swishing of my dress). I quit the gym, and therefore my rewards system, and magically the pounds melted away.

I managed to stay fairly fit during pregnancies one and two. I innocently assumed that chasing two kids around, while simultaneously making a third, would keep me in shape during my last. I was wrong. Every pregnancy is different and this one made me swell with joy and also with potato chips.

To complicate things further, I was diagnosed with distatis recti. While this may sound like some infection of the anus, it is actually an abdominal problem. The strain of carrying a baby separated the muscles of my stomach, leaving a gaping space where all of my insides spilled out. I was cleared for exercise at six weeks, but was astounded to see a football-sized mass pop out from my middle every time I tried to do a sit-up.

My extensive Google research on distasis recti left me feeling desperate. The simplest workouts (IE sit-ups and planks) were no longer good for my body, as they can cause the muscles to separate further. I had three small children and no time. Tired of feeling sorry for myself, I stumbled upon ten minute workouts on YouTube. And after mentioning it to a couple of friends, a small workout group emerged.

Ten minute workouts are not daunting. And let us be honest—everyone has ten minutes to spare. We created a group text, in which a new video is posted every day. We take turns choosing one, and we use the space to complain about exercise and lend moral support. The best part is that it keeps each person accountable. If I were doing this on my own, I would have quit by now. And get this—yesterday we did a fifteen minute video. Check in with me in a year, because I might be a body-builder or a fitness instructor. Or maybe I’ll be a mom with a slightly less floppy body. Either way is fine with me. At least I am doing something.

I pulled out the bin of exercise clothes that have been slowly accumulated in the corner of my closet. I found my weights under the couch, and they are now sitting proudly beside it. My daughter has joined in on the action and jumps around beside me while I do exercises. My husband showed interest as well, and I now save the videos for night-time when he is home from work so that I have another person to torture. (I mean motivate.)

I still cross my fingers when I eat ice cream and hope that it pads my boobs instead of my ass. And I haven’t given up my wine. But where five fingers used to fit between my ab muscles, now only two can. Instead of a meatloaf protruding from my middle, I now have a taco. What can I say? It’s an improvement.

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