Category Archives: Exercise

Did I Really Just Do That? Oh, Help…

I’ve been looking for a fun new exercise regime. Actually, I have been pretending to be looking, which means for about two years I thought about looking. Finally – yay, me! – I actually bothered to type “fun exercise class” and my city into Google and found an article about a couple of unusual local classes, like one that has a bunch of cowboy gates and all the exercises are somehow done on the gates, like maybe how cowboys climb over rodeo fences to hop onto those cows – wait, bulls? – that jump around and try to throw them off. (I mean, I guess that’s what it like. I don’t actually know. The article wasn’t too clear on that.)
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Don’t Exercise, and Other Key Findings

I learned three things today, which makes it an awesome day for personal growth. (Yay, me.) I’ll share with you so that it’s a personal growth day for you, too. (Yay, you.) After you read this, and if you find it useful, you can go watch cat videos on YouTube or discuss conspiracy theories with your teenage son (don’t ask), because your day has been productive.
The three learnings are:
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Occam’s Razor vs. Stephen King

Please note: there is no moral to this story, I offer no insights or inspiration. However, it may serve as a cautionary tale. Most likely, it’s just a bunch of random nonsense. And there’s no thesis statement. Whatever.

When I got to the lake with my paddleboard this afternoon, the temperature was in the low 80’s, the lake was quiet and peaceful under a very slight breeze, and I took off for a quick paddle. But just a minute or two out from the dock, the lake was disrupted by these large waves that came rolling toward me from literally nowhere. They were fat and round and fun, like those thrown off by a pretty big or pretty fast boat, but there were no boats in sight. Not a single one. Huh.
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Look Like a Fool…Who Cares? (Well, I Do. But Just a Little.)

You know what it is about learning curves? They’re very long. And steep. And there’s a lot more to them than you might initially think. When you’re learning something new, you not only have to learn the new thing. You also have to learn the things surrounding the new thing as well as the things that come after the thing, and they’re usually things you wouldn’t think to think of. Make sense? No? I’ll give you an example.
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What’s Lost (to the Bottom of the Lake and Beyond)

As you know if you bothered to read my last blog post (don’t know why I’m feeling a little snippy all of a sudden…it’s totally cool if you didn’t read my last post, although you should. I’ve been told it’s my best yet. By my mom), you know that I took the month of July off. Here’s an accounting of what I lost and gained through my smart decision to not work.

What I lost in July:
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7 Steps to Happiness and Fulfillment

I want to be a bad-ass, too…

Remember when I wanted to join a roller derby? Changed my mind. I want to play ice hockey. I can (sort of) skate, but I can’t stop. Still, I think the only time hockey players actually stop is when they’re slammed into the walls, so that shouldn’t be a problem. The discovery of this new goal came toward the end of a great day. And it happened because I fought my natural desire to hunker down and stay home on a cold, rainy spring day. I’ll share the progression with you; feel free to copy if you want.

How to have a great day and end it with renewed excitement and passion:
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Greek Dancing, Racquetball and Bribing Your Child

“Greek” dancing with flower girls at my wedding.

My 15-year-old daughter provides excellent material to write about: our conversations border on being totally unmanageable. She tops me with one-liners over and over and I just try to hang in there. Here’s a recap of some of our conversations from this weekend. 

As you know if you read my rant about exercise last summer, Lizzie isn’t the biggest fan of physical activity, whereas I’m a huge proponent of getting exercise by doing outdoor things that you love rather than “working out.”
So, last Friday night:
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Someday, My Shrimp Will Come

Today I was singing a song from Into the Woods which begins, “He’s a very smart prince.” But instead, I sang, “He’s a very smart shrimp.” My middleaged brain has been mangling words right and left lately.
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Bulging Eardrums Lead to Middleaged Wisdom

I have nothing witty to share today. I have been sick for more than two weeks. I am on my second round of antibiotics and still feel like my head is going to explode. The pressure on my ears is intense. The doctor says my eardrums are showing the pressure they are under (happens to us all, eventually). I can’t remember if she actually used the word “bulging,” but that’s how it feels: like my eardrums are bulging and may soon simply pop. And they hurt so much that I imagine, if they popped, it might not be a bad thing. I picture my head filled with sludgy swamp water, and if my eardrums pop, it would all drain out. Then maybe I could lean over the kitchen sink and use the sprayer to rinse out the inside of my head. The warm, soapy water would wash out all the sticky bits of shameful memories, useless knowledge, and cobwebs, leaving my whole brain sparkling and new and so, I don’t know… rejuvenated! It would be like coming home from a month-long vacation in the Bahamas, but without the expense. Or the tan.
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Cavemen, Lizzie’s Fear for Her Life, and Rants about Gyms

Question for my middleaged women (MAW) friends: Did cavemen go out into the fields and lift boulders over their heads simply to improve strength and impress cavewomen? I’m about 95% sure not. I’m pretty sure they got enough exercise hunting mammoth,  being nomads, foraging for roots and nuts and such. In the winter, when they weren’t hunting and foraging, they probably sat around the fire on their mammoth-fur rugs and told stories and chewed on mammoth jerky. They got “exercise” by being active in the course of their regular lives. Sometimes that sounds delightful to me: spend all day in the fresh air, live a simple life (not easy, but simple), engage in a “job” that is related to actually living. It also sounds lovely to relax by a fire all winter, telling stories. Of course, they probably froze their asses off, they had no books, and I bet their stories consisted of:
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