As I type this, I am trying to ignore the jiggle.

You see, since ballooning up for a 9-month period, being cut open and having a baby ripped out of me, and being lazy on the couch for 5 months as I figure out how to raise an infant into a functioning adult, I have become a little… squishy. I was never exactly a Barbie doll (ya know, because I’m a brunette, psshhhhh), but since my c-section, I definitely feel like I’m Humpty Dumpty and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men did a crappyass job of putting me back together again. I swear to dog, a post-partum woman’s body reconfigures in the strangest ways, but I decided I’m sick of complaining about it. I took charge and joined a boot camp thanks to my very good friend Welles.

She and I have been going to boot camp non-stop for four weeks. I know. Only a month. But we haven’t missed one day! We have a saying: “No matter what.” We go to boot camp — NO MATTER WHAT. It starts at 6:45 a.m. (yes, a.m.) and we work out until 7:45 and that’s it! In one hour, I have woken up, I have uttered real words in the English language (I usually have a no talking rule for the first 30 minutes of my awake time), and I have sweat. It’s so much easier to go when I know I have a buddy waiting for me. The shame of giving an excuse as to why I can’t go is worse than going. And the devotion of being there for her is stronger than the urge to ditch. So, I suck it up when the alarm goes off at 6:15 and I throw clothes on and watch the sun rise on my way there.

I hate working out. I really do. I’ve never been athletic, but thankfully, it’s okay. Trainer Adam is encouraging without being an ass. He can modify workouts for varying abilities. And, best of all, I don’t feel stupid if I flounder an exercise because everyone in there is trying and no one in there is an Olympian. The circuit we do takes us through six different stations that we stay at for one minute each. While each minute is the longest minute of my life, it’s also only a minute, so it’s not enough time to hate it. We do the circuit three times and by then, we’re pooped!

Attending boot camp five days a week has been a goal I never thought I’d meet. And I’m also eating really well! I’m not depriving myself of too much, but I definitely have cut back on my most loved foods: bread, rolls, muffins, bread, bread, bread. Just don’t bring me to Cheesecake Factory with that beloved brown bread or I may explode! Not sure how tough I am yet.

So, with this exercise thing and this eating well thing, I’ve managed to lose ten pounds! Coolness! I know it won’t always continue to come off in that amount, but it’s encouraging to see results. I don’t even care about the number on the scale too much. I am more concerned about how I feel and how I look naked and the way my clothes fit. I’m less winded on the stairs. I don’t feel the need to cover up every mirror in the house. And I am back into some pre-pregnancy jeans.

Okay, with the help of the pre-zip suck-in. But still!!