Exercise and Bellies

I started my ‘get fitter’ plan last night. A week ago I weighed myself and discovered that I had put on 7kgs in the two months since I broke my arse bone. My tailor made trouser confirmed it when I couldn’t get the zip shut the other day. I have to lie on the bed to do my jeans up, even when they haven’t been tumble dried. I have been trying to eat healthier (salads, veggies, lean meat etc…) and so far I think I’m doing OK.

Exercise in the next hurdle. I’m sure I’m not the only one to have expressed an intense dislike for the gym. I find it boring and un-motivating, so I try other thing to stimulate my urge to firm up my flabby thighs and tummy. The last thing I tried was Fencing. Yes, the type with sword (foil, epee and saber). It involved lots of knee bending, hip works and ankle swelling. The last one was a result of weeks or effort and investment (I purchased a foil). I really enjoyed the activity, but the resulting pain wasn’t so good.

Swimming is an old favourite, but after a while swimming up and down starts to lack something. The rippling blue of the chlorinated water loses its poetic inspiration.

So last night I went to a Beginners Belly Dancing lesson. I was in a room full of sticks apart from the teachers who had a lovely shape and even a tum on her. A few girls had on jingle jangle scarves and one even had one of those back of hand covery things that also jingle’s when moved. I was by far the largest lady there. So imagine if you will, me red loose pants (trousers), fitted turquoise singlet (from Supre, so even thought the label says XL it isn’t really any bigger than that worn by a 6 year old) and bare feet shaking my hips and booty to the sounds of Middle Eastern groove.

I loved it, it doesn’t hurt today (although last night I felt it) so I’m going back with Edna on Monday!

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