You know how "they" say exercise is good for you?
Hah! and Hah! again.
I know, I've been saying it too, for years, to anyone who'll listen, but really, have I the right?
I've been slothing around at home here for a month now, and it's incredible how quickly I've become used to doing nothing. Well, almost nothing.
I get up at a leisurely pace, eat breakfast, read a book. Glance at the clock, keep reading. After all, work is off limits, I don't have any appointments that need to be rushed to, turn the page, read some more. Turn on the TV and dvd player. I'm currently watching seasons 1-4 of Criminal Minds.
Eventually I'll get my fat bum off the chair, make my bed, maybe even take a walk around the yard.
But it's a tiny yard, so that's only 5 minutes.
Well, yesterday I tossed my jeans in the wash, (I'd been wearing them forever, they could have probably walked themselves to the basket), and pulled a fresh pair out of my drawer.
Uh-Oh. Couldn't pull up the zipper. Couldn't even do up the button. Damn those brownies!
(And the chiffon cake, icecream, vanilla slice, lots of mashed potatoes).
Decided I should do a little extra exercise. Seems walking to and from the shops and Post Office isn't enough. Maybe I should go everyday?
Anyway, I thought a little bend and stretch might be a good idea, so bent over to see if I could still touch my toes. Not allowed to stretch my right shoulder, so kept that tucked in and used just the left. Oh Dear God! I could only bend far enough to reach my knee. I know my lower back has been getting stiff these last couple of years, (hello arthritis!), but only reaching my knee?
Then I propped open the back door and used the step to do a little step up/step down work. I won't call it step aerobics because that's faster paced, with music. But 5 minutes worth, then I did a squat or three. All good, right?
Except I woke up this morning to find my thighs had gone on strike and were refusing to work. Painfully, refusing to work. Not entirely of course, I can still get around, but getting down on my knees to *unwind the windows? Forget it! Picking up things I drop? Forget that too. At least for a day or so until they forgive me.
I've decided to either walk more, or stay fat.
Because giving up vanilla slices just isn't an option.
*my windows have a floor level handle which winds to open the bottom section of glass.
A Runway Runaway
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