The perils of postnatal exercise

There’s nothing quite like an exercise class to make you feel rubbish about yourself.

Last night I took my first step to getting back into shape after having my baby. I know, I know, she’s eight months old now, haven’t I left it a bit late? J-Lo was back pumping iron after six weeks, you say? Whatever. I am lazy. I won’t deny it.

Anyway, it was hell. Pure, unadulterated hell.

The thing is, this experience of pure, unadulterated hell is one I will have to repeat twice a week, for six weeks. Because I’ve paid for all the lessons already. And I have a bet on with the (self proclaimed) Northern Love Machine that I won’t drop out.

Seeing as it’s too late for me to save myself, I thought I would commit the utterly selfless act of being the exercise guinea pig. I will undergo a twice weekly humiliation, for your benefit. Every time something awful happens at one of these classes, I will share it with you. That way, you can gain all the virtuous experience of an exercise class, with none of the humiliation.

So, what have we learnt after Lesson One? Don’t do bouncing squats if you’ve had a baby in the last year. They make you wet yourself.