Every once in a while, I get the feeling that I should exercise more. Mostly I get this feeling when I step on a scale (usually by accident) or put on my favorite clothes…which refuse to close. It’s then I get the exercise bug. Not just the “go on a few more walks, big girl” kind of bug. I mean the “get out the mat and start sweatin’ you oldie!” kind of bug.
Well, last week, my favorite pair of navy pants expressed its displeasure with my weight gain by popping the waistband button and shooting it across the room. Very well, I can take a hint. I looked up some exercises on the Internet. “Tighter abs, smaller waist and hips in just 7 minutes a day.” What a great title and it didn’t sound too difficult.
First, I turned off every electronic device in the house. There is no way I want someone to hack into my account, film me wallowing around on the floor like a beached whale and put it on You Tube or something. It wouldn’t go viral, I’m sure, but it would probably be recommended viewing for anyone wishing to lose their appetite!
I unburied my exercise mat in the bottom of the closet. As I rolled it out, I know it said, “Oh seriously, lady, not again!” I got down on the floor and that only took three minutes. Imagine my outrage when I realized that those three minutes don’t count in the seven minutes of the workout! Certainly I raised a sweat getting down there!
First, I had to bend my knees and touch my ankles from either side. This one wasn’t too bad, except I didn’t make it quite to my ankles. Okay, to tell the truth I had a little trouble bending my knees, but I waved at my ankles from either side and began to “feel the burn” as they say.
I had been somewhat worried about the dog bothering me during this process. I shouldn’t have concerned myself. She disappeared into the basement the minute she heard me grunting and groaning, no doubt supposing that I was dying slowly and painfully from something she didn’t want to catch!
Next were two exercises requiring me to connect opposite ends of my body. I must make my right elbow touch my left knee. Well, I’ve already explained about the knee-bending thing, but the elbow was much more cooperative. I managed to get my bent elbows almost over my bosom and my knees ended up somewhere in the region of my hips. I’ll get better as time goes on, I suppose, but somehow, I am not expecting a knee-elbow reunion anytime soon.
From there it just gets worse. The next exercise wanted me to bend my knees again (they were obsessive about bent knees) and then sit up and stick my hands as far as I could between my thighs. Now I had some problems with this. First, there was the problem of being able to sit up far enough to do this and then, when I could, it looked like I was performing some weird, sexual ritual. Definitely don’t want to do that one around anyone else!
The final torture…I mean, requirement was to do something called a plank. This is where you get up on your toes and your forearms and hold your body in a straight line—the plank. I had just done ankle touches, elbow and knee bends and another exercise I don’t like to talk about. Nonetheless, I decided to do the plank. I got up on my forearms and my toes. Unfortunately, I had slipped down on the mat, so that my toes hit the linoleum instead of the mat. I pushed up into the plank and observing myself in the glass of the door, I could see that I resembled a camel with my butt as the large hump in the middle; it didn’t look very much like a plank. As I began to count, my toes slipped on the linoleum and I fell on my face.
And that wraps up this session of my exercise program. Any bets as to how long I can keep this up?
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