“Perhaps fitness is not a good career for a woman of reproductive age....” Said my Husband. I know he said it from a good place, he is my rock, he has been supportive of me since I decided to take fitness up full time. Leaving the sitting room to me in the evenings after our baby has fallen asleep so that I can choreograph my classes in peace, indulging my trips for events, enduring changes in diet, but you see, we did not foresee this happening so soon after I had begun. There were two lines on the stick. We were expecting another mini me.
I am a mother of one. My new career was born out of losing weight and coming back to self after baby number one. I had done it through hard work, through a lot of research and studying, I had even taken up a course on personal training and sought certification in Zumba. It wasn’t about losing weight anymore, I wanted to spread this new happy place I had discovered, that we all have the power to transform ourselves, inside and out.
We moved to Nairobi from Nakuru in August. This was a new and exciting chapter for me. Once the house had come together, I set about knocking doors, marketing myself, teaching free classes....everything was beginning to come together. I was getting a schedule, enjoying my work, choreographing new classes all the time and loving it.
But then my shoes started getting a little smaller....really! Tight and tighter. I didn’t know this could happen? (in retrospect my body reacted rather fast)....I seemed to be bloated all the time, and that ab definition? What Ab definition?
The clincher? I went to a pool party and donned a small top to teach Zumba. We had fun. We shimmied, we danced, we had a terrific time. And we went home, tired, partied out. ....then the photos and the videos came out. My abs looked completely wrecked. I am a bit narcissistic you see, :-P I know how things are supposed to look with the hard work I put in, and they didn’t reflect it. It was time to pee on a stick.
...that last line was for the dramatic effect...I walked into a hospital and took a pregnancy test...less dramatic....but I wanted to be sure.
We are expecting another Mini Me.
Yay! Yay. Yay?
How does this affect my work, my career, my own body image? It is important to be confident as a trainer, inspiring and motivating others is only done when you are in a good place yourself.
So we talked, we mulled it over, my husband and I...and finally we decided....
This little baby is going to be a Maasai warrior at birth.
Eh?
Yes I said it! Mum’s going to be what she preaches everyday. That pregnancy is not a disease. That we can be active through out, that actually getting your legs off of the coffee table and getting them moving is beneficial to you, and your little one. My little baby is going to be born a Spartan, a Warrior, He/She is going to be born swinging a kettlebell ....ouch that might be painful...maybe just holding up a fist.
So I started showing a little early...happens with subsequent pregnancies. I’m about 7 and a half weeks in. The doctor seemed amused when I told him my abs told me I was pregnant....he doesn’t understand ego....but he was sweet.
So here I am....putting myself out there once again....putting my own tagline to the test. Fitness, Kenyan Mama Style!
This is today, after an hour and a half of kick boxing and kettle bell training.
Hello, I’m Miss Fit Kenya....and I’m expecting.
