I thanked my wife last night for supporting me in my continued fitness regimen while pregnant. She looked at me as though I was insane. "Of course, I support it. It's ignorant not too."
This morning as my 5 month pregnant ass completed my burpees, bench pressing, and dumbbell routine, I thought of our conversation and her utter look of confusion as I told her how much I appreciated her not throwing a fit for me wanting to continue doing the things that keep me sane. Because so many other people have. My previous partner would have, my mother has, my co-workers ask if it's really safe, my in-laws tell me they'd rather me dust than move boxes, but my wife... she supports me and maybe because she knows me.
She knows that exercising keeps me sane and has for a long time. It balances my emotions, my energy, my body. I'm sure I get some kind of endorphin producing high from it, but that's better than a high from anything else. I've spent 10 years spilling my guts on black mat floors, under and over barbells, sweating and crying at the same time, and finding my balance. There are tons of women who have done more while more pregnant, I've seen them myself in the gym with their spotters and belly wraps. They've inspired me long before I found myself in the same place.
No comments:
Post a Comment