I don't like the idea that if I shimmy bits of me take time to settle. I'm not enormous, I'm not a woman mountain, but I'm still the heaviest I've ever been.
Throughout pregnancy I looked a bit like one of those ancient fertility idols, those carved stone women with the rounded bellies. I kind of hoped once the little'un was out it might flatten back a bit, but I guess it won't do it by itself. My thighs in my yoga pants looked at least twice the width of those of the other class participants. I feel like I'm probably at least twice the weight of the instructor. My arms which have generally been vaguely toned look like they're developing bingo wings - I don't want to look like a dinnerlady!
I've mentioned before that a dance injury was the root-cause of all this (that and abundant excellent food in Brussels), and that this class is the first real structured exercise I've done since the operation to fix my wrecked ankle. My right leg is still definitely weaker than the left when I dance but just to be able to dance without turning my foot over and having to strap it up for a month each time is fabulous.
I might not enjoy the sight of the fat woman dancing in the mirrors on the dance studio wall, she's certainly not me as I feel on the inside. But I'm not going to be so intimidated by that image that I don't dance and don't try to exercise. I've always hated sport as I've not found it fun. Dancing is fun, so I'm going to try and stick with it - wish me luck!