Gym Junkie Mums

Gym junkie mums. You know them because they're the ones who are dressed in lycra shorts and running shoes at pre-school drop off and who drop and run (literally) to the gym for the 9:30 class. They're the ones who discuss the merits of the different personal trainers and enthuse about how great the 5:30am spin class with Warren is. They are also the ones with the perfect bodies who look happy and healthy and full of life. Then there's the mums like me, who look like they could do with another 3 hours in bed, only ever run after the children and wouldn't dare wear lycra for fear of what it might reveal.

I am jealous of course. I would love to be motivated enough to want to get up early to exercise, but I'm not, and let's face it, even before kids I wasn't. All my life I have done some exercise, just never with any great passion. I didn't find my sport at school and although I tried rowing at university, I soon gave that up when it came to 6am rows on a partly frozen river in the middle of winter.

As a teenager I religiously did my Jane Fonda exercise program, and I had an exercise bike that gradually became a clothes horse over the months. I have purchased several sit up devices, exercise mats, videos, and weights and I have been an on again off again member of the gym, depending on the prevailing distractions, motivations and stage of life.

I object to have to pay too much to exercise, but I kid myself if I think I'm motivated to go it alone.

I found yoga in the years before Holly came along, and have continued on and off in various forms. I tried Bikram yoga, which is done in a heated room, and I have to admit part of the motivation was to cheat a bit on the whole workout. All that sweating has got to get rid of some excess somewhere... But having decided I wanted to have a baby, I came to the conclusion it wouldn't be good for a potentially pregnant body. Whether I had any grounds for that belief I can't remember, but it was a good reason to move on.

Yoga suited me perfectly when pregnant as well, although the class I went to when I was pregnant with Holly, felt more about relaxation than exercise. We did some belly dancing and 'visualisation' and even had partners come along to prepare for the birth. I probably used one yoga move in labour, but the one thing I took to heart from my yoga teacher was the right to make noise. Labour hurts, and making noise releases some of that pain. For those who know me, it probably seems strange, but I was loud, and I mean loud. In fact at one point they had to tell me to shut up and put the effort into pushing rather than screaming.

I digress.

As a mum, exercise became not only about being fit, but also getting the pre-pregnancy body back. I was lucky pre-kids to have a pretty flat stomach and nice long legs. The legs stayed, all be it with a few more veins and capillaries showing, which means my preferred skirt length now is floating, rather than flirting, but the tummy suffered slightly, as you might expect. I made a concerted effort to exercise when Holly was born. I tried some 'bring your bub' yoga classes, but it didn't work for me, having to whip the boob out in mid pose in order to calm the baby. I tried it again when Michael was a bit older, but what two year old can resist sitting (or jumping) on mummy when she's lying on the floor. It didn't make for a relaxing or productive class.

I walked a lot with Holly. Stomped the streets in fact. Walked to the shops, walked to mothers' group, walked to the clinic, walked to the park. This worked for both of us, until my knees started creaking and I was advised by a physio to vary the exercise as I was building muscle unevenly in my legs. Combining a mix of walking and yoga did the trick, but as the kids changed, the possibilities changed. There comes a point where your compliant little baby no longer wants to sit and watch the world go by from the comfort of her pram, but wants to be out and about enjoying it first hand. Walks become strolls at best or full on bribery sessions.

Walking was also more fun when there was a destination, which often meant a hot chocolate half way through and the early introduction of baby chinos.

I tried the gym again, but my two objected to being left with strangers in a crowded creche, where television was the main comfort. I think the furthest I made it through a yoga class with Michael was about 10 minutes, before the creche called me out to comfort him. They were equipped to look after happy kids, but didn't have the staff to cope with the unhappy ones. I eventually gave up trying during the week and as soon as my membership permitted, I switched to a once a week pass and left the kids with the other half at the weekend. My week day exercise was back to walks to the shops, so long as it wasn't too hot, too cold or too wet.

I tried to find other ways of exercising with the kids. I bought a skipping rope, but it's frustrating for a 4 year old who can't skip, to have mummy trying to get to a hundred before she'll help. I went through a phase of chasing games, where the real objective was for mummy to get a run around the garden. I have a go on the swing, and I'm a regular on the trampoline, but it's not quite the same as a proper workout.

In recent months, I have become a fan of Pilates, and realised exactly how little strength I have in the mid regions, even though (of a morning) my stomach can appear reasonable flat. I have to be careful not to get demotivated, as I watch other ladies with seemingly larger bodies go from lying flat on the floor to sitting bolt upright with no help other than the tummy muscles. I have a tight back, apparently, which I can use as another excuse for needing to grab my legs and haul myself up to sitting.

Just before Christmas Richard Branson's new Virgin Active gym opened up near us, and, given that I didn't have to commit for any more than a month, I thought I'd give the whole gym thing one last try.

And you know what? It's working.

I can't guarantee, given the track record, how long I'll last, but I'm going to the gym three times a week. So what's the formula? Well, the kids are now old enough to communicate with me, which makes leaving them easier, as we can talk about it; they also like playing with each other; and actually, they like the gym. Club V they call the creche, and it's more like a play centre than a normal creche, with climbing areas, slides and ball pits. There are toys and craft activities, and they even do dance and football classes with some of the slightly older children. They have a television area of course, which I wish they didn't, as mine will be drawn to it whatever else is going on, but I can't complain, as I can now go for a workout (and have a coffee) and still find the kids aren't ready to go home yet.

So does this make me a gym junkie mum yet?? Given that I tend to stick to the aqua classes, pilates and yoga, and I'm still not ready for lycra in public, I'd say not, but I'm working on it. Michelle did a fantastic aerobic aqua class this morning, I'd highly recommend it...