Striding behind strollers

My hands are still shaking. I wasn't run over by a truck but it sure feels like it.

I took my first Stroller Strides class. You can check their website on www.strollerstrides.com

They are all over the country and I believe the world too.

While finding them on google when looking for alternatives to work out with a baby (going to a gym just means husband is left with a screaming baby at his screaming witching hour, or working out at home, which may never happen when I can barely get a glass of water) I imagined a bunch of overweight ladies going for a stroll with a cup of coffee while yapping about diapers, and then going to get some pastries.

I thought, no biggie, I can get some coffee and talk about diapers. That's what my sad routine has come to anyway. I don't bring any water because I am sure we are just going to be doing a few jumping jacks and playing with silly workout bends.

I arrive at a park where mommas meet with the strollers and as I roll in with my standard stroller I notice every one and their brother has one of those fancy jogging strollers and they all look...thin.

They whip their perfect hairs in the wind while stretching their slim limbs, and it almost feels like it is in slow motion, like im a movie. I feel like the new dorky kid in the school. Even their babies know each other.

I ask super fit mom teacher if I will be able to keep up with my whimpy stroller. She says I will do just fine.

Liar.

Pregnant lady arrives and my intimidation for these ladies subsides a little. If pregnant lady can do this class, so can my overweight ass. Pregnant lady tells me, however, that she is 35 weeks along and I conclude that she is a freak of nature because she looks better than I. At 35 weeks pregnant the only running I did was from the couch to the bathroom.

Super fit teacher mom asks me if I exercised before and I make the huge, huge mistake to tell her I used to be a personal trainer ten pounds ago.

She hands me a whimpy exercise bend and I want to tell her it is too light, but I will keep my ego in check and try not to show off.

Fast forward to twenty minutes later and we are lunging up a hill while pushing strollers and after running as fast as we could. Pregnant lady is passing me. Super fit lady teacher mom says, "come on Mariana! You can lunge lower than this!"

Why does she think Mariana can lunge lower than this?

Oh, yeah, because stupid Mariana had to open her big fat mouth and say she was a personal trainer.

I am again running for the fifth mile while my kid is squealing in delight. I am so thirsty that I wonder if drinking my baby's bottle is a bad idea and if it would be considered cannibalism to drink something that came from my own boobs.

Speaking of which, the bra I am wearing is not boob friendly, so I am holding them boobs as I jump jack for, what, a gazillion times?

When is the part where we go get pastries?

Evil teacher tells us to go run down this one hill and shuffle back. At this point we've been running and jumping jacking and working with silly bends, (that turned out to not be silly at all, as my arms shake right now), for what it feels like eternity, and I literally yell, "WHAT?"

The other ladies think I am just being funny, but I don't think it's funny at all.

We do this a gazillion times as well.

Then we work with silly bends in front of babies while singing the ABC song, which is a lot different then the Metallica I usually listen to when in this much workout inflicted pain.

Now I am running ahead of everyone, back to the park, but not because I want to get a good work out or show off, but because in case I die, I won't be left to be eaten by crows and my kid won't be taken by the boogie man.

I keep hoping my baby will ask for food and I will have to sit down, but no, not today. Today is the day he doesn't ask for food every two seconds. He is instead talking and smiling at his new friends, the other babies.

Funny thing is, I loved it and will sign up for this daily torture. P90X has nothing on working out up hills with a stroller!