Sure, I'm Going to Exercise More...

Enjoy this Throw Back Thursday post!  I originally posted this on Dec. 30, 2015.

Exercising, making it a priority, and enjoying it has become a priority.  I've been working hard on getting exercise since I was dismissed from Physical Therapy- whether it be walking, going to a yoga class, or stopping by the Y and swimming a few laps.

Sadly, all of that Physical Therapy went to my head.  I feel like I'm capable of doing anything now.
 
Until earlier this week.

Baltimore has had exceptionally warm weather this month.  We've been treated to early summer temperatures that have made this the most enjoyable Christmas weather I've ever experienced.  You know, this weather has led me to make some very questionable decisions.

Case in Point:

I decided I was going to run.  Every once in a while, I get this urge to "run for my health".  I don't know where it comes from, nor why I feel the need to do this.  Maybe it's some weird form of torture I enjoy.  Maybe it's the glorious weather?  Who knows?

I strapped on my shoes, pulled my hair up in a ponytail and attempted to run.  I had mapped out a 1 mile route from my house.  I figured I might be able to do a slow jog through about half of it.

I seriously overestimated how much I could do.

The good news is:  I made it down to the end of my street.

The bad news is:  I live 3 houses from the end of the street.

By the time I got to the stop sign, I was huffing and chuffing for breath as if I had just run a marathon, not the reality of having slowly jogged 0.1 of a mile.  (You read that right, ONE TENTH of a mile.)

When I pulled up at the end of the street and started walking, one of my neighbors drove by, rolled down her window and cheerfully shouted "Great day for a run!  You look wiped!  How far did you run today, 5 miles?"

Sadly, I didn't have the breath to answer her, so I mustered some half hearted attempt at a smile, and gave her a thumbs up.

Yeah, I do this for my health.  Sure.  There's nothing healthier than running a tenth of a mile and wondering if I've managed to run enough to justify a Dairy Queen run.

Instantly Slims You

I originally ran this post years ago on an old blog, and then re-posted it once before on this blog.  I bought a new pair of jeans over the weekend that had a "slimming panel" in the front, and it brought this post to mind!  I dug the original post out and decided to repost it again, because so much of it is still true!  Enjoy!

With the arrival of hot weather here on the East Coast this week, I pulled out my old, comfy shorts.  After a good, hard look at said shorts, I decided that I needed to buy a couple of new pairs that aren't so ragged and paint covered.

I went to the local department store and found shorts of the required length.  Now, these are not just any shorts!  The bright green label on the front of the shorts scream "INSTANTLY SLIMS YOU".  I figure I can use all the help I can get.  I attempt to work out on a regular basis (You know, like once a week.  I don't want to be excessive about that exercise thing.)  So, I figure I can use all the help I can get.  I pick up a pair and look more closely at the labels.  "Tummy Control"  and "Slims Your Figure" are listed on this tag.  Sounds like a winning combination to me.  The shorts are on sale, so I buy two pairs. 

I brought the shorts home and went back to my room to try them on.  I was followed by the two cats, who are always intrigued by the large plastic bags that they can jump onto and roll around in.  As the cats waited patiently for their new toy, I explained to them that these shorts were going to solve all of my problems.  They would suck my tummy in for me, and take a couple of inches off my profile, and I'd look even better than I already do.

I pulled on the first pair of shorts, buttoned them up and turned around to see the cats staring at me.  I swear, that if those cats could laugh, they would have been rolling around on the floor, holding their stomachs and pounding the ground with their paws.  As it was, I swear I could see Luna, the female, shaking her head in pity.

The shorts did feel a little odd.  I could tell my stomach was sucked in, but there was definitely more going on.  I slowly walked over to the full-length mirror, dreading what I was going to see.

You've heard the phrase "muffin top"?  Muffin top doesn't even begin to cover what I saw.  Have you ever gotten a really loaded ice cream cone?  You know how it's all stiff on the cone part, and then where the ice cream part starts, there's a ton of ice cream just pushing out all over the top of the cone in every which direction?  That was me.  Ice Cream Top.

Yes, the shorts are slimming.  They take an amazing two inches off of my stomach.  The question I should have asked myself at the time is; "What happens to all of that fat that's no longer on my stomach"?  It's being pushed up above the waist line on my pants, that's what's happening.  I look like I have a 2 keg beer belly pouring over my belt.  The pants are stretch pants, but I honestly feel like I'm stretching them to the very last inch of their stretchiness.  If I stretch them out any more, they are going to explode off of me.  Try explaining that while handing out food at the middle school picnic.

The funny thing is, I bought a regular, non-slimming pair of capris from this same manufacturer in this same size last month.  They still fit me just fine. 

Nursing my bruised ego, I pulled the shorts off and took a closer look at the interior construction.  There is a control panel across the front of these shorts.  It looks as if I can take the control panel out with some patience and a good seam ripper.  Hopefully, once the control panel is removed, then all of my flab and fat can distribute itself where it normally sits around my tummy.   It's a little easier to hide that tummy when it's evenly distributed. 

While I'd really, really like to whittle a couple more inches off my tummy, I think I'd be better doing it the old fashioned way with diet and exercise. Or maybe a pair of Spanx.  Yeah, maybe Spanx AND my slimming shorts...

Weird Day at the Gym

I originally wrote this several years ago, and posted it to my now defunct "Mom's View" blog.  I re-posted it on this about two years ago.  I decided to go ahead and repost it today, because the timing on this just seems right today.

I went to the gym this morning.  I was on the treadmill when my nemesis came in and hopped onto the treadmill next to me.  Armed to the teeth with her bluetooth headset and i-Pod  headphones, she got onto the treadmill and began running.

As she runs, she sings snatches of the songs I assume that she's listening to on her i-Pod.  Never an entire phrase, just a couple of words like "What I'm looking".....  silence for a while and then we hear "Hey there Delilah".....  this goes on for a while, until all of a sudden she'll scream out "You go girlfriend!  Who-Hoo!  I've done a mile!  Look at me go!  Next one to go!" ...... and then silence for a while until her phone rings and she begins screaming into it "Hey, how's it going?  OMG!  I just ran 2 miles can you f'ing believe it?  I am so awesome!  So, about those contracts..."  And on and on it goes.

It's always an experience when she shows up.  You can see all of the heads begin to droop when she shows up, and people will shift treadmills or stop early and lift weights once she settles in for her workout.  No one quite knows what to do about it... and the trainers are at a loss.  They can't throw her out for singing snatches of songs badly and then getting them stuck in our heads for the rest of the day, so we all get to suffer together.

As I was leaving, I experienced perhaps the oddest thing I've ever experienced.

Do you remember the scene in "When Harry Met Sally" when Meg Ryan was faking an orgasm at the table in the diner? 

I don't know if this woman was faking it or not, but I swear to you, she was moaning and screaming while running on her treadmill, just like Meg Ryan did in that scene.

I tell you, it brought all activity in that gym to a screeching halt. 

My workouts never end like that.  I must be doing something wrong.

There's All Kinds of Encouragement

I've been struggling with weight loss for a long time now.  I go to the gym, and I go take classes, but every once in a while I get some asshole who decides to "tell me" what I should be doing to lose weight, or makes a very nasty comment about my size, my ability to exercise, etc.

I admit that I am very overweight.  I work at it.  I do.  I try to eat right, and I try to exercise.

Even so, those snarky comments get me down.

But this week, I met a professional athlete at the gym.  Actually, he's been around all week, visiting family.

No snarky comments from this man.  NONE.  He was absolutely wonderful when I met him the first time.  Introduced himself, joked around for a while and moved on.

Every day since then, I've seen him, either in the gym, or at the grocery store.

You know what?

He remembers my name.

When I saw him at the grocery store, he asked if I had been to the gym yet that day as he hadn't seen me when he was there.  Was I planning on going that day?  He introduced me to his family, and I returned the favor.  He told me he was going to be looking for me at the gym the next day.  Would I be there? 

Honestly, I don't know why he's bothering to talk to me, or why he cares.

But the fact that he noticed me, remembered my name, and shot the breeze with me for a few minutes in the grocery store impressed me no end. 

Yes, I did go to the gym the next day.  I'll be there again today.  Not so much because I might run into some absolutely huge professional athlete that I can see on television, but because someone noticed that I was there, and cared enough to acknowledge my presence without offering any judgement about me or my current state of being.  He made me feel a part of the community, and as if I belong.

That's the kind of encouragement that people who are struggling with weight loss need when they go to any fitness facility.  A welcome, a feeling that we belong, and encouragement to keep going.  Not judgement, not harsh words, not "advice".  Believe me, we already have that self talk with ourselves on a daily basis.

Thanks so much to this amazing professional who has put himself out to make people feel welcome - even though it's not his facility, and he's the guest in our town.  What a gracious person.

There's all kinds of encouragement.  This kind is a good kind. 

Sure, I'm going to exercise more....

Exercising, making it a priority, and enjoying it has become a priority.  I've been working hard on getting exercise since I was dismissed from Physical Therapy- whether it be walking, going to a yoga class, or stopping by the Y and swimming a few laps.

Sadly, all of that Physical Therapy went to my head.  I feel like I'm capable of doing anything now.
 
Until earlier this week.

Baltimore has had exceptionally warm weather this month.  We've been treated to early summer temperatures that have made this the most enjoyable Christmas weather I've ever experienced.  You know, this weather has led me to make some very questionable decisions.

Case in Point:

I decided I was going to run.  Every once in a while, I get this urge to "run for my health".  I don't know where it comes from, nor why I feel the need to do this.  Maybe it's some weird form of torture I enjoy.  Maybe it's the glorious weather?  Who knows?

I strapped on my shoes, pulled my hair up in a ponytail and attempted to run.  I had mapped out a 1 mile route from my house.  I figured I might be able to do a slow jog through about half of it.

I seriously overestimated how much I could do.

The good news is:  I made it down to the end of my street.

The bad news is:  I live 3 houses from the end of the street.

By the time I got to the stop sign, I was huffing and chuffing for breath as if I had just run a marathon, not the reality of having slowly jogged 0.1 of a mile.  (You read that right, ONE TENTH of a mile.)

When I pulled up at the end of the street and started walking, one of my neighbors drove by, rolled down her window and cheerfully shouted "Great day for a run!  You look wiped!  How far did you run today, 5 miles?"

Sadly, I didn't have the breath to answer her, so I mustered some half hearted attempt at a smile, and gave her a thumbs up.

Yeah, I do this for my health.  Sure.  There's nothing healthier than running a tenth of a mile and wondering if I've managed to run enough to justify a Dairy Queen run.

Weird Day at the Gym

I originally wrote this several years ago, and posted it to my now defunct "Mom's View" blog.  I re-posted it on this about two years ago.  I decided to go ahead and repost it today, because the timing on this just seems right today.

I went to the gym this morning.  I was on the treadmill when my nemesis came in and hopped onto the treadmill next to me.  Armed to the teeth with her bluetooth headset and i-Pod  headphones, she got onto the treadmill and began running.

As she runs, she sings snatches of the songs I assume that she's listening to on her i-Pod.  Never an entire phrase, just a couple of words like "What I'm looking".....  silence for a while and then we hear "Hey there Delilah".....  this goes on for a while, until all of a sudden she'll scream out "You go girlfriend!  Who-Hoo!  I've done a mile!  Look at me go!  Next one to go!" ...... and then silence for a while until her phone rings and she begins screaming into it "Hey, how's it going?  OMG!  I just ran 2 miles can you f'ing believe it?  I am so awesome!  So, about those contracts..."  And on and on it goes.

It's always an experience when she shows up.  You can see all of the heads begin to droop when she shows up, and people will shift treadmills or stop early and lift weights once she settles in for her workout.  No one quite knows what to do about it... and the trainers are at a loss.  They can't throw her out for singing snatches of songs badly and then getting them stuck in our heads for the rest of the day, so we all get to suffer together.

As I was leaving, I experienced perhaps the oddest thing I've ever experienced.

Do you remember the scene in "When Harry Met Sally" when Meg Ryan was faking an orgasm at the table in the diner? 

I don't know if this woman was faking it or not, but I swear to you, she was moaning and screaming while running on her treadmill, just like Meg Ryan did in that scene.

I tell you, it brought all activity in that gym to a screeching halt. 

My workouts never end like that.  I must be doing something wrong.

Calisthenics

Now that the doctor has proclaimed my ankle to be healed, and I have been released from physical therapy, I have joined a gym.  I seriously need to exercise, and I need to be careful so that I don't injure my ankle or anything else.  So, I am working with a personal trainer.  Have you ever worked with a trainer?  You pay them good money to have them help you exercise beyond the point where any sane person would stop. 

My trainer is a wonderful girl.  She's not that much older than my oldest kid.  She's very smart, funny, and knows what she's doing.  She has a degree in Exercise Science, and she is the person who gets the clients coming off of Physical Therapy.  She very gently pushes you to safely do more than you thought you could. 

The problem with Personal Trainers is that they're not content to work on just one part of you.  They want to work with ALL parts of you.  Not just your ankle, noooo.  Your abs, your glutes, your triceps, your biceps.... egads.

Do you know she tricked me into doing 60 sit ups last week?  And that they were on a ball?  One of those big exercise balls?

I can hear you thinking now "How does anyone trick you into doing 60 sit ups?"

Actually, it's easy.  She had me do 15 sit ups a week earlier.  3 sets of 15 sit ups.  It seems like a small number until you realize that you've done 45 sit ups.  And you haven't done 45 sit ups since you were in high school.  (And that was a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away.)

So, there we were.  She'd had me lunge the length of the gym.   Yeah right, lunge.  I can't lunge.  I give credit to the people who were in the gym at the same time but did not break out in laughter when I stumbled past them on my way down to the end of the gym and back. 

Dear God, the burn.  My legs burned EVERYWHERE.  Muscles I didn't even know I had were protesting the unaccustomed exercise.

She had me sit on the big ball, and I was so thankful that I got to sit down!  I did my 15 sit ups without complaint, because I wasn't lunging!

"You're going to do 5 more"  she tells me.

"What?  I can't do 5 more!  I can barely do 15!"

"It's only 5 more.  You can do 1 more.  Just try 1 more."

I did one more.  And then another.  And then 3 more. 

And then, we lunged the length of the gym again.  I didn't think I could burn anymore than I was before, but I was wrong. 

Back to the ball, back to more lunges, and back to the ball.  I got to 10 sit ups, and I swear to you, I was done.  And then, that evil witch, she smiled at me and told me "how easy the next 10 were going to be."  And she convinced me I could do them.  She had faith in me, even though I was ready to roll off that damn ball, onto the mat and use a hand weight as a pillow while I curled into the fetal position and nursed my wounded pride.

Slowly, very slowly, I managed to pull off 10 more sit ups.  The last one was something.  It wasn't pretty, but I did it.  60 sit ups.

Thank the good lord, we were done after that.

I hauled myself out to the car, and drug these old bones home.

The soreness the next morning was unbelievable.  Every part of my legs burned.  Every single muscle let me know that it hurt.  My stomach hurt.  Everything hurt.

I got to work, turned on the computers, pulled myself up on the stool and sat down at the information desk.  I was determined not to move until my shift was over.

Of course, things don't work that way in the library world.  Patrons need books.  Sometimes, you need to walk out into the stacks to look for a book that someone can't find, and sometimes, you like to help them find the section that books are in, so that they can find similar titles to the one that they are searching for.  This involves walking.

The worst part is our nifty little section of books that we have roped off.  A Staff member must accompany students back there while patrons are looking for books, or else we just grab the books for them and check them out.  Staff usually just squats and ducks under the rope and gets the books.

Not this day.  This day, that section became the "self-serve" section.  I had two people who needed books from this section.  Fortunately, the section is less than 6 feet from my perch, and I can see everything.  When the they asked for the books, I gave them permission to cross the sacred line and get the books themselves.

The worst part was when I had to go back into the stacks to help someone find a book.  As I hobbled down the aisles and hauled my sorry ass up a step stool to get to the books they needed, I noticed an inquisitive look cross their faces.  They were too polite to make any comment, but as we were slowly meandering our way back up to the desk to check out the books, the patron politely asked "Are you okay?  You seem to be a little... ummm..."

"Oh, I'm fine.  I'm just suffering the after effects of a unique for of torture called 'calisthenics'." 

The smothered laughter from the assorted people sitting in the surrounding area was just a little mortifying....