Archive for the ‘fitness’ Category

Better call a medic…I’ve woken but I can’t get up.   17 comments

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I almost had to call an ambulance when I woke up this morning. Okay, I exaggerate … slightly. I do that sometimes.

Have you ever been so sore that you actually had to strategically plan how to get out of bed? You know, that minute when you wake up and your body screams in an ever so passive aggressive way, “Please just don’t move. I’m begging you. I have money; I will pay you to just stay still until whatever this is passes.”

Yeah, this morning that was me.

Every muscle took on a very vocal stance on movement of any kind. My legs were so done they started throwing my arms under the bus.

“Use them if you have to get up. They don’t know pain like we do. They basically do nothing. What exactly is their job, anyway? Waving and washing your hair? Please. We have been hauling your fat behind all over this planet for years while they just swing uselessly at your side all willy-nilly. It’s time they took on some real responsibility.”

My arms were like, “Easy for them to say, but we weren’t built for this kind of nonsense. You have basically ignored us your whole life and now out of the blue you decide to start using our muscles which have basically been dormant since the womb. How are we supposed to cope with the responsibility of real movement? It’s absurd.”

My stomach muscles which I always thought got a pretty good work out digesting all the delicious food I gave them were emitting the kind of sharp shooting pains which I can only liken to the early onset of acute appendicitis.

So I arose in stages. Calculated, controlled, tearful, ouch-filled stages. I may or may not have used several expletives by the time my core muscles had finally managed to move me into a seated position.

At this point I had begun planning my own funeral. Should I write an eulogy or leave that up to a loved one? What music should be played? Do I even have a favourite song that could be played in a church setting? Cremation or burial? Now my head was starting to hurt, and that was the one thing that had somehow managed to survive the recent terrorist activity that my body was waging on me.

Even with all these unanswerable questions, it seemed like dying still might be easier than figuring out how I was going to put my underwear on. However, I am a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter. Well okay, sometimes I am a giver upper, but that is totally different from a full on quitter. So I struggled, and I groaned, and finally, I managed to get myself moving in the general direction of living my life.

A good friend of mine once said to me, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body.” I would like to say that Weakness had better move out quick, leave no forwarding address and not expect to get its damage deposit back.

It’s week 3 of my workout challenge and I am almost convinced that I will probably survive the next 5 weeks. Regardless of the pain and necessary sacrifice I will soldier on. However in the event that I don’t, I would like Sarah McLaughlin to sing In the Arms of an Angel at my funeral, partly because it’s a lovely song, and partly because I don’t think in my current condition I’d ever get through the pearly gates on my own steam.

Posted August 29, 2014 by janyceresh in fitness, Working out

If the truth hurts it’s probably a conspiracy.   31 comments

 

There is an evil imp running amok in my home and, while I’ve never actually seen him, I know exactly when he’s been around. I believe he works at night and probably has other ne’er-do-well imps assisting him.  I’m sure he thinks he is amusing.  He is wrong.  The shenanigans he and his fellow miscreants get up to are both cruel and self-esteem-crushing.

What does he do you ask? Well I’ll tell you.

He has been slowly shrinking my pants and other articles of clothing that, only 6 months ago, fit me perfectly.  I think he has a little sewing kit; he sneaks into my closet at night and makes minor adjustments to the waistbands of my trousers.  Nothing too noticeable at first, just a nip here and a tuck there. He is obviously all about the long con.

It’s not just my clothes he’s been sabotaging either.  He has also managed to have all the bathroom scales set 15 pounds heavier.  How he does that is beyond me.  Clearly he has a background in engineering.  Or maybe he is invisible and stands behind me with a foot on the scale while I’m on it.  I really wouldn’t put anything past him.

 

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Now, how he manipulates my mirrored reflection is beyond me. When I’m standing in front of it, it actually looks as if I’m slightly more robust than I used to be.  Maybe he was once employed at a carnival and was in charge of the House of Mirrors.  It makes sense; I’ve been in those places and they can make anyone look like they follow a strict diet of Ding Dongs, burgers and Big Gulp sodas.

Why is he picking on me, though?  What did I do to deserve such a blatant attack on my self-esteem?  I’m a good person.

I support local charities.  Why, just last week the girl guides came to my door and I bought 8 cases of their thin mint cookies. Not sure what became of them, though. I saw the boxes in the trash a few days later. Maybe the little imps got hungry and helped themselves to my stash.  I certainly couldn’t have consumed them all by myself, and I was the only one who knew where they were.

I am also doing my part to lower my carbon footprint. I used to work out regularly, which caused me to breathe harder and with more frequency. Recognizing that my increased out flow of carbon dioxide could potentially have a negative effect on our already fragile eco-system, I have sacrificed my exercise program for the greater good.  Don’t quote me on the science; I don’t claim to be an expert. I’m just one person trying to make a difference on this great blue marble we call Earth.  It takes a village, people.

Now while I cannot prove with absolute certainty that these imps exist, and that they have been slowly but surely wreaking their havoc on my existence, I have come to a decision which could prove to be quite lucrative. I’m going to start a home-based business. I will provide overnight clothing alterations for a nominal fee.  I’ll hang them up in my closet and put the little scamps to work for me instead of against me.  That will teach them to mess with an entrepreneur.

I have to run; pizza’s here and I have to make sure they didn’t forget the extra cheese. Did I mention how I support local businesses?

 

 

Posted March 20, 2014 by janyceresh in family, fitness, Humour, parenting, Uncategorized, Weight

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