Zumba off!

What’s the idea with fitness freak pregnant chicks these days?

I know this one’s going to divide a lot of you but I have to get it out there.

I have to say that the rising volume of girls I see every day that are (as my mother likes to call “heavily pregnant“) that are doing strenuous exercise is really starting to worry me.  So much so that I have had to slow my personal pace down to a canter to get to the corner shop for my daily chocolate fix, just in case I get run over by the sprinting pack 10+ month pregnant chicks!

Pregnant girls aren’t satisfied with softer, lighter, toning type exercise like yoga, Pilates and swimming.  No, these girls take their fitness regime more seriously than life itself.  They’re heavily into kickboxing, weight-training and my absolute worst thing on earth (beside tomatoes) – Zumba.

I guess I was always predestined to detest the Zumba craze – there are just too many competing factors for me and Zumba to ever connect.  For one thing, I just don’t vibe to South American tunes – for some reason, they irk me,   irritate me and generally fill me with rage and frustration – not at all the emotions that the Zumba craze is meant to evoke in its followers.  For another, I am not into public dancing and sweating and gyrating.  But most of all – the fact that I would have to pay to subject myself to this, plus, I am the most uncoordinated, self-conscious dancer this side of the stage. 

No, when I’m pregnant I do brisk walking at most – because, when I think about it –  chasing after a wild toddler while heavily pregnant and working part-time in a too-tight suit in the peak of summer is perfectly adequate exercise for a pregnant woman.  To the extreme, I say, bring back confinement – Who am I to say “no” to being sidelined to a comfy Elizabethan king-sized bed in cozy castle somewhere for a good 3 months of peace and quiet!

To be fair, if not for my amazing post-pregnancy genes I would probably have to drag myself to some for of paid fitness.  But for now, I pride myself on not having set foot into a gym or place of exercise for about 7 years (bar for the gym on a cruise ship and that was just for the hell of it!)

So,  a note to the 9 month pregnant chicks who keep sending me chirpy text message invites to their weekly Zumba classes:

Girls – let’s bond over a cocktail or 2 after the babies are born.  Until then, please,  ZUMBA#$@#$$%% OFF!



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