I knew I shouldn’t have laughed at the incontinent old lady sketch on Little Britain. My mum was right when she said it was cruel. But no, even though I knew she was right and I did feel a bit guilty, I still giggled and said ‘but mum, they’re only taking the piss’ and of course, that unintentional pun just, very childishly, made me guffaw even more. So, it was a recent trip to the gym that made me realise my childhood saying of ‘Ha. God paid you back’ – often uttered in glee to my annoying older brother as he stubbed a toe or something after having given me a massive Chinese burn or some other siblingly torture – is true. Only, as a grown up, I think ‘Ha, God paid you back’ is normally termed Karma.
I had just finished a really strenuous one to one workout at the gym (no, I’m not one of those uber toned gym bunny mummies but rather a wobbly, drink too much wine, eat too much chocolate trying-to-get-fit-cos-it’s-the-beginning -of-the-year-but-i’ll-give-in-by-mid-Feb kind of mummies.) And just when I was hobbling off towards the changing rooms, all red-faced and sweaty, my trainer shouted “Come back. You haven’t finished your skipping!” Skipping? Flip, I hadn’t skipped since my youngest was into it about 5 years ago but it had never phased me before, so I grabbed the rope and off I went: skippity, skippity, one leg, other leg, then double, ooh I’m good, I can keep it up, skippity, skip. Then….psssssssss. Oh bollocks. Stop quickly. There’s some wee escaping! Luckily it was just a little psssst and my black joggers didn’t give it away. I’ve never been one to favour the sweaty undercarriage look at the gym (never worked out hard enought to achieve it) but I sooo hoped the trainer thought the wet patch was due to excessive working out rather than urine seepage! I did manage the last minute, with my legs tightly held together, pelvic floor squeezed in as tight as possible with an expression on my face which looked, I imagine, like surprise and squinty pain all at once.
Once skipping was finished, I got to the loo asap and once showered and at home thought about how awful – and shocking – the experience was. Okay, so I’ve had 3 kids, but they’re not tiny anymore and I don’t remember ever having that problem before. So I looked online to see what I could do about my poor pelvic floor and came across a number of gadgets, gizmos and excercises that might help. But these were my faves…
Haven’t ordered them yet but am doing the squeeze, release, squeeze, release pelvic muscle tensing, but even though it says you can do these ‘downstairs exercises’ (as I’ve come to call them) anytime in any place, do be warned that the face does somewhat give it away. Just hope Stressed Husband doesn’t get all excited when he sees them thinking they’re love balls – he’ll be very disappointed. And if they don’t work? Well, the kids can use them as marbles!