My Little Ramazan - Day Fifteen

Weds 25th August 2010

Flip, I am hungry. I’m sitting here in my very quiet kitchen now that Baran has been bathed, fed, watered and put to bed and I am filling the last thirty-four minutes and twenty-seven seconds before feast time. That’s if you can call Doritos and hummus a feast. I’m not sure that you could when it’s not accompanied by a large, cold glass of Pinot Grigio. But hey ho.

Last night I chanced a potential black-out situation by attending my usual Zumba class. Now that I’m drinking water again, I thought it might be possible to get through a whole exercise class without any real danger. And it was possible. I leapt about to the Latino beat, shimmied my ass like nobody’s business and did not – not once – feel like there might be a fainting situation. So all good there.

But was it? Because this morning I read an article on the BBC website called ‘An Idiot’s Guide to Ramadan’, written by Adam Yosef. When asked about people’s inherent need to exercise regularly, Adam stated that Ramazan should ‘always be placed first as it is no doubt of greater benefit’. He said that it was cool to fast and exercise if you really felt the need, but that if a choice arose, Ramazan should always get the thumbs up. Hence the miraculous energy of the Turkish footballers Mustafa told me about on Day Six. I suppose if you’re playing footie with God then you find the energy from somewhere.

So why didn’t I use Ramazan as the perfect excuse to get out of Zumba for a few weeks? Isn’t that what any normal person would do? The answer, though I hate to admit it, is that I am vain. Vain as vain can be. That little fitness class is the only slither of exercise I get each week (aside from zapping about after a toddler), and I cherish it. It makes me feel good because it gets the endorphins going. But it also makes me feel like I’ve done my bit for my body. If the baby belly will not shift even though I am flinging it about to the Latino beat, then it’s really not my fault. If, however, I don’t get my Zumba fix, then the baby belly may grow out of all proportion and that will be my fault.

Can I just state here that I realize when it comes to the topic of one’s own body image, most people have a severely distorted perception of reality. I am no exception. But my perception is my perception and must not be underestimated. If it usually gets me eating five-a-day then it can be no bad thing. If it gets my ass to zumba every week then great. If it gets me choosing a conscience-free body-sculpting opportunity over an internationally approved spiritual journey such as Ramazan, then what does that say about me? As I said, vain as vain can be.

But I will not be too hard on myself. I must remember that I am a most excellent wife and I am only human. If Zumba is my worst vice then I think we can all relax, it’s hardly a code red. Now where are those Doritos?