Monthly Archive for February, 2010

I have been in a bit of slump when it comes to fitness. Truth be told the last time I was in the gym was prior to Obama being elected and, on a more personal note, it was back in the pre-Lily days that I last made the big trek all the way down to the gym( it’s three floors down from me and that elevator ride isn’t as easy as it sounds). It is tough to admit to myself that it has been that long. The truth hurts and so does my back. Yes, it seems that my writing exercises, emotional heavy lifting and deep and yogic like rumination does nothing to keep my body in shape. I do work up an occasional sweat when I realize I have misplaced my keys and I do the cardio-circuit between the kitchen counter, my bedside table and my closet floor—sometimes I do that circuit three or four times a week. Don’t be concerned about my extreme fitness regimen, I drink lots of water before and after and I make sure to cool down and stretch so as not to build up lactic acid. That said, be sure to consult your physician before you begin such an extreme regime.

I also walk Lily over a mile a day but my pace is not the kind of pace that gets one a spot on the speed racing walking team in the summer Olympics or an ass like a Kardashian. My heart rate never gets anywhere near the fat burning zone as we do lots of stops for Lily peeing, sniffing, checking pee-mail and saying hello to every dog and person we meet. However, there is some minor stretching on our twice daily puppy promenades, I have to bend over and pick up her poop and that is as close as I get to toe touching and/or squats.

I have long wanted to lose enough weight so I could get down from a size 12 to a 10. That shouldn’t be a lot of weight. And, really, it isn’t weight I want to lose. I want to lose inches. You see, weight loss and scales and numbers are a bit dangerous for me as from the time I was 15 until I was 27 I was bulimic and I will do whatever I have to in order not to go back to that dangerous and destructive behavior. I am proud to say that it has been 14 years since I have partaken in any traditional bulimic behaviors. That is not entirely true, there was one time when one an in-law said something snarky about my body and it triggered a two day relapse, but that was long ago.

Even though I don’t act like a bulimic I tend to think like one and exercise is a place where my bulimia continues to rear its ugly head. When I exercise I tend to think that more is better and that even more is better than that. If one step aerobic class is good then two classes of double step is better and then maybe I should do an hour of weights and then maybe a relaxing evening half-marathon and maybe a yoga tape. See, my body and moderation are two things that don’t go together. I have managed some brief periods of exercise moderation but they are usually short lived and I go from a healthy amount of exercise into compulsive exercise and push myself until I have an injury or I just can’t keep it up any longer and then I do nothing, that is unless you consider channel surfing to be an exercise.

A couple of years ago I developed a pain in my back. This pain hits at the worst time possible, when I am sleeping. The only way this pain will go away is if I get out of bed which is rather inconvenient at 3 a.m. The other option is for me to exercise. On the days I exercise I am totally pain free and I can sleep through the night. I have chosen the first option for far too long and now my back seems to have even less tolerance for sleep and it wants to get up at 1 or 2 a.m. and watch Shamwow commercials. Growing ever more sleep deprived I went to my doctor hoping that they might find a quick fix for my dilemma, like surgery or a spinal transplant. My uncooperative doctor suggested that if exercise prevented the pain then I should exercise.

Here is my Olivia Newton John, “Sweat Away the Back Pain”® plan: I am exercising for 21 minutes a day seven days a week. Why so short? Because I am lazy. Why seven days a week? Because the pain relief only occurs on the days I actually exercise. I am doing 21 minutes of cardio and ab work—every day without fail. No matter if I am tired, menstruating, or what other reason I can expertly concoct. And as I seemed to have developed an extremely short attention span for cardio equipment, my regime is seven minutes on the stationary bike, seven minutes on the elliptical machine and then seven minutes on the treadmill. Once I am done with cardio then I will do some ab work and maybe a stretch or two and that is it. Nothing fancy and no excuses( that, I think, was going to be the Nike catch phrase until they came up with “Just do it”. Or was it “Buy our products and you will look like an athlete even if all you do is sit on your butt and watch sports”?).

There was a part of me that hoped that my regimen would fail and that exercise would not relieve my pain as it had in the past and that my doctor would get me on the emergency list for a spinal transplant and she would be forced to eat a crow or a hat or some other inedible item to prove how wrong she had been. Sadly I am here to tell you that I am now on the fifth day of my new lifestyle and I am completely without pain. I guess that means I have to keep up the exercising and stop Googling “Bionic+spine+replacement+like+Jaime+Sommers+had+on+the+Six+million+dollar+woman.”

I know most fitness experts would likely tell me that seven days a week is too much and/or that I should be doing more varied workouts and/or more intense or more or less of something else. However my plan is not about fitness. My plan is not to have buns of steel or biceps of titanium or even thighs of some other precious metal— I just want to be able to sleep through the night. Don’t get my wrong, it would be REALLY nice if I had thinner thighs in 30 day—however my goal is sleep. Thin thighs just can’t be and aren’t my primary goal—and for me that is the healthiest choice for my mind and body.

I do fear that if and when my thighs get thinner the bulimic part of me that is dormant and yet still living in my psyche( I wish that beyotch would pay rent if she insists on living in my head) will wake up and start wanting to tweak with my exercise plan. She will suggest two sessions of 21 minutes or even more. I will do what I can to fight her off but her siren song of a size eight is as tempting as a chocolate brownie.