In April, 2011, I started working out. When your feet swell on a warm day, you can make excuses. When your heart is racing a full hour after attempting to run for the first time since high school, there is a definite problem. The only thing I changed in my eating habits was I made myself eat consistently. Every three hours, I ate a little bit. If someone tells you that there is no such thing as your body going into “starvation mode”, because you don’t eat Enough to jumpstart your metabolism, just smile and nod. These days, I am half the size I was.
The first few weeks, I tried running on a local track. It was there, I decided “runner’s high” must be similar to the feeling of invincibility meth users have. Mostly, brought on by the lack of oxygen running to the brain.
Humour. This is what I use the most. The basic rule is, set up, set up, twist. When I originally posted this here, in June, 2011, I took a few ideas of what I had done, what I could do, and exaggerated 1000%. Ed is a real person. But, he lives too far away to stalk him in person. 🙂
He did give a great bit of advice when I realized I was ungrowing my clothes, but the number on the scale never budged. “What do I do? Do I need more cardio? More water? What?”
His response, “Stop looking at the scale.”
A few months ago I decided that my exercise routine should consist of a little more than keeping my fingers toned, while looking at the television. I figured it would be nice to identify my body as having some kind of shape, rather than looking like a puzzling piece of abstract art.
Running was my first thought. After all, how many people finish a 5k by rolling themselves down the street, like a bowling ball? So, I bought my running shoes and put on my running clothes. Then, returned the running clothes, because I haven’t bought running shorts, since I was a young girl, and the size was like wearing thong underwear.
What I learned that first afternoon was all about runner’s high’. I am very sure it is the same feeling that convinces meth addicts they are invincible. Because, as I pushed myself and my legs became as wobbly as Jello, I continued running. Ten minutes later, some other joggers stopped to ask if I was okay. For some reason, they thought I was having convulsions. After they helped me up off the ground, I vowed not to run, ever again.
Dancing was my next option. I remembered enjoying dancing a lot when I was younger. This time I was not even going to attempt to try on my old dance gear. I might be lucky if I could squeeze my dog’s body into that tiny leotard, let alone, myself.
During my first lesson, I felt wonderful. It was like I had never stopped dancing. Looking up at the mirror, I knew I looked like a movie star. You have seen the scene in Fantasia, where the hippo dances? That was me. Maybe it would have even worked out better if I hadn’t insisted I could lead the lessons, myself. For some reason, dance teachers are touchy about any offered help.
Finally, I met Ed. He works out at my local gym. He was very nice for the first week. He talked to me about proper form and even helped lift the barbell off my chest,. He seems like a shy kind of fellow, so instead of coming right out and saying he wanted me to be his exercise partner, he told me about how important it was to always have a spotter. But, I could read beyond the lecture.
I have spent every moment at the gym following Ed around. Even learned his routine. When he wasn’t coming out as often as he used to, I checked around and found out that sly boy had been testing out a new gym we could work out at together. You should have seen how surprised and happy he was when I showed up. I am sure I saw tears in his eyes.
As time has gone on, I suppose he has been feeling a bit overshadowed by my progress. He shouldn’t feel bad. I think he looks like a nicely built young man. When I asked him to poke my stomach, so he can feel my rock hard abs, he turned green and walked away. I suppose the envy was just too much for him.
Sadly, the summer will bring an end to our exercise duo. I plan on spending more time at the pool this summer, showing off my results in my brand new itsy bitsy bikini.
Don’t be too jealous. I am sure Ed will be needing a new exercise partner to work out with,