Like so many people, we have a treadmill. It’s a really nice one, in fact. Unlike most people who have one and don’t use it, ours is not in our bedroom, nor is it a convenient place to hang clothes – it’s in the basement. We initially bought it to use in exercising the dogs when the weather was just too bad to walk outside. That lasted about an hour. To be fair, Iris and Dream do fine on it – well, Dream isn’t as keen on it because we think alike (exercise is still exercise and why should we do it?). But Guinness absolutely abhors the machine. He becomes a nervous wreck even to just turn the stupid thing on. He starts slobbering and twitching. He pulls back on his leash – he’d rather choke himself than get anywhere near it. Even with treats, we can’t persuade him to get on it.
But, I didn’t write this post because my dogs use the treadmill – but to announce that I’ve officially started my exercise program. I feel at this point that I’ve lost enough weight that I need to do something to get my blood pumping and to reintroduce the concept of toned and sculpted. Yesterday I was rooting around in one of our many unpacked boxes in the basement when I ran across a couple of photos of myself from college – man I looked good…and young (it was after all 14 years ago). I had stems – not tree trunks! To say I pulled the ripcord when I got married is a complete understatement, but it’s not too late for me to reverse the abuse I’ve laid on my body. Looking at these photos made me realize that I’m not too old to have that body back. Well, me in a size 8 again might be a bit of a stretch, but a girl’s got to have a dream, right?!
Sam’s doctor prescribed exercise for him five times a week, in hopes he’d do it three times, but so far he just hasn’t had enough time or energy. So with a little bit of motivation from the scales this morning (I’m down another 2.5 pounds since Monday) and these photos floating through my mind I thought I’d set the example and get started myself. It’s not like we don’t have a treadmill and an exercise bike just sitting in the basement begging to be used.
Even though it wasn’t even 8 a.m. I grabbed my running shoes and a bottle of water and headed downstairs. Optimistically thinking I’d be able to just pick up where I left off twelve years ago….yes, it was still early and I was still groggy. I’ll be the first one to admit that I’ve never been a great athlete, but when I got married I could at least run for a couple of miles – when I had to.
I will tell you that with my knees and hip problems it became apparent to me within the first couple of minutes that running was not going to happen today, and probably not tomorrow or the next day. For one, I’ve got to find a better support system for the girls before I attempt it again. I nearly threw my back out. So I opted for moderately-fast walking. No, there wasn’t any power walker’s hip rolling or arm flailing going on either. I’m not about to look like an idiot, even if it is just in the privacy of my own basement. But 45 minutes isn’t as long as it seems when you’ve got the tunes cranked up and you’re completely focused on a goal. And focused I am. I want my butt back!