One of my best friends, Nikki (not of the Grahame variety) began Insanity classes this time last year along with her sister in law. I was suffering with all day sickness and nausea at this time as I was about 8/9 weeks pregnant! As I got fatter, Gemma and Nikki were getting fitter.
My obsessive social media disorder kicked in and I started following Insane Fitness with Victoria Sutton on Facebook and Instagram. With good intentions I committed to Nikki and myself that I would sign up for these classes post babies.
As I suffered badly during my pregnancy with Nancy I had to wait around 12 weeks before I started exercising as the pain was still there in my left hip/groin. I guess it wasn't my wisest idea to sign up for the Color Obstacle Run or attempt to do it 2 weeks after this with no training... But that's another story for another time!
Back to insanity.... It soon became apparent that getting a space in these classes was as hard as finding a pair of black patent Christian Louboutin Pigalle's back in Autumn 2013. I put myself on the waiting list and waited... And waited... And waited. Then out of the blue, BAM a space became available. Squeaky bum time! Off to my first insanity class I was going. This was about 6 weeks ago.
The class started at 7:30pm, "I'll pick you up at 7" were Nikki's words. "I'll drive; you're ALWAYS late. We CAN'T be late".... Ahhhhh Ye with little faith. Unfortunately her observation was pretty accurate. Time keeping is not my strength.... This is me.
It was only a 10 minute journey from my house but when we arrived I understood why. Toria is ex-military. Totally inspiring as she has a wee nipper herself but doesn't take prisoners. She's not there to stroke your ego, she's there to kick your arse and give you what you've paid for; a beasting. That aside she's a very lovely lady!
As the music started and she opened her mouth I shit myself! Despite being a fit person pre-pregnancy, 32 weeks of very little intense exercise and just under 2 stone heavier than I was before, this was likely to kill me!
During my first class I felt sick rise in my throat a handful of times, was dripping with sweat and aching like I'd been battered with a cricket bat! I hated the class, loathed it and yes I continued to put myself on the waiting list.
I struggled to walk up and down the stairs, stand up and sit down, pick up my children and change gears in my car for approximately 4 days. I also felt like I'd got 2 black eyes from my enlarged, milk filled bossom. I could give Katie Price, pre-reduction, a run for her money. (Any recommendations on sports bras for the larger busted ladies extremely welcome!)
I continued on the waiting list, getting on most weeks. My fitness is gradually improving. I do however feel like the big fat biffa at the back of the class with the doughnut forming jelly belly mum tum. I try to blend in to the back wall, unfortunately my vein pulsating, cherry head disallows this!
Finally, August classes were released and I earned myself a place in the class! No waiting list for me! POW! I was feeling pretty damn smug! Like a twat I signed up for 2 classes a week during August... WHHHHYYYYY???????? Oh I remember, I've bought a rather expensive Ted Baker dress for the husbands best friends wedding in Dubai in November in a BLADDY SIZE TEN!!!!!
Tonight was my first time going to class on my own, Nikki is on holiday. And yes I was freaking late.... Drives Steve mad. I never give myself enough time for anything (hangs head in shame) I under estimate the actual time it takes to do things/gets places.
My heart starts beating faster... Sweaty palm alert. I get to the venue and there's no parking spaces anywhere, I've got 5 mins til Shaun T and Toria start shouting... SSSSSHHHHIIIITTTTT!! Round the one way system I go again like a space is going to miraculously come available. This time it's 7:28pm... Waaaahhhhhh!!! So out of desperation I park a good few minutes walk and run down. I get there, pay, go to the back and pray. Pray i'll make it through a) on my own b) with the sweat on I've already worked up and c) that my heart rate can cope increasing any more.
"LEVEL 7 TONIGHT" Toria shouts, I haven't got a clue what each level entails but just thank the gods above it's not level 13 as everyone was crying about that... I've not yet had the dis-pleasure. (If you're reading Toria it doesn't mean I'm requesting!) my puddings are bouncing all over the place despite my best efforts to strap them down! My belly is wobbling, legs shaking, sick in the throat and enough sweat to bath a small child! But I made it through without my safety blanket, Nikki.
As I came out the class I felt like my head was going to pop! I stumbled down the stairs and embraced the walk back to my car in the rain! I've come home, fed Noodles and feel well and truly pooped!
The struggle is real people! But this mummy tummy, doughnut belly, flubber what ever you wish to call it is going to go!!!
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