Pole Aerobics Made Me Fat

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My awesome "Mothers and More" group hosted a monthly mingle one time at a dance class.  To be more specific, a pole dancing class. We are all mamas and usually of young kidlets so any attempt to "bring sexy back" is either welcome or a subtle annoyance getting between us and more sleep! So Pole Dancing Class. RIGHT. Well, they called it Pole Aerobics but you all get the idea, yes?

I think I used to be a sexy woman, so my 40 year old thirty pounds overweight loose neck skin mama self decided to go. I put on makeup and did my hair. For an exercise class.  I thought them calling it an exercise class was a *wink wink nod nod* to encourage more women to attend. They were serious. I was the only one in a sparkly tank top and lacy bra, I will tell ya that.

The instructor was a woman named so appropriately "Summer". I think she was pretty young.  Like twelve.  She was at least a real woman in the figure department….pretty curvy and strong like bull.  I was so excited to take this class. I was more excited to get out of this class. Pole aerobics class made me fatter!!

I am not just a little fat (although clothes hide it) I am also so very weak. How about no core strength at all? My favorite yoga instructor Kim Sellers talks about using our core strength all the time.  One of the moves involved holding onto the pole and lifting up both legs, sexy style, but most of us were laughing and flailing out in a decidedly unsexy manner. Parenting magazines talk about how defined my arm muscles must be from hefting thirty pound toddlers all day.  Well.  My arms must have missed the memo.  How about floppy arms where apparently the muscles have fallen from the bicep area down into the tricep area and just hang there. Doing Nothing.  I couldn’t pull myself up the pole for anything.  It was probably sad to see. 

I didn't realize how bad off I truly was until taking this little class.
I knew I should have had a drink or two or six before hand. Only one of our number was able to follow Summer in all parts of the routine.  The routine in which one backs up to the pole, somehow wraps her legs around it, pushes up said pole with legs and arms, then slides all the way down to the floor and crawls forward. Sexily. Riiiiight.  Um, usually the biggest trick I can pull off is taking a shower.  Maybe I will strike a match to light a candle.  The only crawling on the floor this mama does is to find lost toys under the couch.  Well.

But here is the silver (matched my tank top) lining: I am more motivated.  I want STRENGTH. I want arms that can do something. I want a core that lets me pull something up from somewhere else instead of laughing, standing there, unable to lift a single thing.

I took this pole dancing class because I wanted to feel sexy, instead I got an ugly wake up call. And I answered. Core and arms: My priority!

Summer, we probably won't see each other again. EVER. But you taught me more than you could know, thank you, thank you thank you!


I guess I should start with some pushups. 

Yuck. 

OK, here we go!  Friends, you count ‘em.

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