The trick is to get back on

 March 21, 2017 started out like every day before it. I was on a roll. In the last year I had instructed over 125 spin classes as a substitute instructor and was covering 12 gyms. Quite often in that time period, I would awaken about 4am, check my email and realize an instructor in Houston, or the Galleria had called in sick for the 5:30am class. I would log into the gym web site and "claim" the class and when 5:30am arrived, I would be 35 miles away and crank out a class. Sometimes I would be in Pasadena a few hours later and instruct another one. Or League City, or Webster. I was bullet-proof. Or so it seemed.

My sister and 3 brothers and I are all in our 60's and we share the common complaint of seniors, that stuff stops working like it did when we were younger. I appeared to be blessed in that I could hike down into the Grand Canyon and back out with nothing more than a bit of discomfort to my flat-lander's legs the next day. If I desired to ride a bike 30 miles, no big deal and the next day, it was business as usual. I got the message that I was doing everything right physically.

I was filling in for an instructor at the NASA gym location at 8am and drove over and instructed the class with my usual amount of vigor and enthusiasm and I really enjoy pushing a difficult, high-resistance hill-climbing class. Most spin class instructors are go-go-go with an abundance of very fast lower resistance peddling. Its called sprinting and they add a lot of upper body movements to keep people from being bored. I don't. In fact, I try to stay pure to the exercise and don't do anything on a spin bike that I wouldn't do on a road or mountain bike. To be clear, a spin bike is a stationary bicycle with a resistance knob. I like to push a class where the rider motivates themselves to get the best work-out possible. I am not a "driver". I'm a motivator.

I remember that morning I awoke with a stiff neck, like I had slept on it wrong or something, but by the time that class was over, my stiff neck went from mild discomfort to straight through the roof excruciating, eye-watering pain. I could hardly drive back to Baytown. My right arm was becoming so numb I simply laid it in my lap on the drive home. I was panicking and wondering if I was having a stroke.

To make a long story shorter here I am one year later - better, but unable to resume instructing. I'm not in pain and I can function fairly normally. What happened is called cervical spinal stenosis and what my VA doctor describes as "nasty neck" and affects the top 7 vertebra. To sum it up, the vertebra are impinging on the nerves causing the pain and numbness and headaches, bad headaches.

The Veterans Administration's treatment was massive amounts of steroids and shots and pills, lots of pills and I went 5-6 months this route with little success and lots of discomfort. My blood pressure had escalated and the VA's treatment was simply more meds until I was on a total of 13. Then I got gout. No one in my family has gout. One of my meds specifically claimed to increase the chances of getting the horrible malady. The VA's answer was yet more drugs. I again voluntarily stopped all of them except 2 blood pressure meds and sat it out cold turkey for two weeks. My next visit to the VA appeared that everything had returned to normal except my blood pressure which to this day has stayed dangerously high.

My big break - no pun intended - came when I asked for alternative treatment and began a twice a week acupuncture treatment at Fusion Acupuncture & Holistic Healthcare in Houston. I got immediate relief after the first visit and it was at this point that I began to scrutinize my medicine. I evolved into chiropractic and after 3 months of this, I am fairly back to normal physically.

I have 5 more appointments at the VA between now and June so they can aggressively solve this BP problem and until they do, I cannot push myself at the gym or instruct the class that I love. So, I've fallen off the horse and this horse requires a lot more than simply sitting. It took me over 2 years of constant riding to get in shape to instruct a class on the level members deserve. Can I get back on? I guess its up to me, but hasn't it always been?

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It's never too late to change

At the gym named after the clock, I got off my stationary bike and walked briskly to the front to see if I could locate more 2.5 pound hand-weights. I wasn't instructing this particular class, but we instructors often work together to help members achieve their fitness goals and we suddenly had more people arrive than we had weights.

I found a few in the stretching area and came back and at the door was a man watching the class. He appeared to be maybe 10 years older than me. I asked him to come and join us, as we had at least one bike left. "Oh, no, I think this is beyond my ability. I think I'll just stick to the recumbent bikes out on the main floor."

We exchanged a few more words where I explained that it is never too late to give it a go and that seeing the class is quite strenuous, he could come in and give it 10 minutes sometime. Well, it turns out he was 80 years old. Now he looked dang good for 80. In fact, he looked good for 75, but he was right. It was too much for him... at that time.

90% of people who venture into what we call a Group-X class is not prepared for what happens in the next hour. I know I wasn't when I first began and I thought I was in good shape. I took my first Spin class (stationary bike) about 3 years ago and this was after hitting the treadmill and elliptical machines 5 times a week. I figuratively crashed and burned every class for the first 6 months.

Now let me clarify this, because it sounds like the class is too demanding. The class is as hard as you make it. Being a competitive person, I felt like if I couldn't do every little bit that the instructor asked, I failed. When they said "give the resistance knob half a turn", I did. Every single time and usually 20 minutes into the hour, I looked at the clock and prayed for it to get moving. It took me 6 months of 2 times a week before I could "hang" and that is when I realized how much I loved spinning. Never mind that 80% of the people around me were half my age.

Spinning is the ultimate cardio Group X class, but you don't have to do the full 60 minutes wide open to benefit from it. You do not have to spend months preparing to make that first visit either, but using the treadmill and elliptical machines prior to attempting your first class will give you a measure of your fitness and boost our confidence.

Make no mistake, walking through those glass doors the first time is dadgum intimidating, but if you have an instructor worth their salt, they will welcome you inside and get you set up on a bike. This is crucial because if the bike is not adjusted for your body, you will either work yourself to death, or possibly get hurt. After I've helped a person get the adjustments just right, I always ask them to take a photo of the settings, "So the next time you come in and adjust the seat, you will look like a pro."

 

I took my first Zumba class last Saturday at a Group X Instructor event in Midtown and for 45 minutes, I did something that only slightly resembled Zumba - but I did it and was pretty danged proud of myself.  I'm not a dancer.  I'm a linear karate guy. This makes me look like a robot or an Egyptian when I try to do circular movements, like Salsa or Rumba. The good part is everyone in the room was an instructor of some discipline and all of us who aren't dancers looked like spastics. It was a blast and I laughed the whole class.

Since my neck became a medical problem, I've had to stop lifting weights for the most part and seeing I do not need weight lifting for my lower half, I decided to try Zumba for more cardio, flexibility, and just plain exercise. Now here is the intimidation factor I talked about and even though I instruct in this Group X environment, walking into a Zumba class to participate brings a certain amount of anxiety, even for me.

Now add in the fact that it is basically an all-female class, and this bumps it up considerably. Well, at my home gym, I know many of the ladies and they were happy to have me embarrass myself, so I went this past Monday and took a full hour with Emily Haynie at command. Wow!  I sweated a lot and like I realized last Saturday, it is all about the feet and having fun.

Is it too late in life to take something like this on you ask (and you stand staring at yourself in the mirror).  The answer is no.  It is not. The first step and the hardest part is walking into that gym and inside the gym are many doors.  You simple walk through them one at a time.

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Rock your body!

I’ve always been pretty active and just before I retired about 2 years ago, I joined 24 Hour Fitness on Garth Road in Baytown, Texas. I did the push/pull method for about 6 months and I did it in earnest; not fooling around. Then, I took my first Spin class. Holey moley, I all but died 15 minutes into the 1 hour class.

For the first 6 months, I failed at some point in the class and simply tried to finish it. Along the way, I picked up Les Mills Body Pump and a boot camp class usually making a total of 4-6 classes a week. The point I am trying to make is that all of these classes are very difficult, but with persistence, anyone can see major results by simply plowing through on a regular basis.

This morning I am going to Body Pump and about 10 minutes into it, I am going to be sweating and wondering why I am putting myself through this torture. Come join me. Take a free class. Use me as a reference. Classes are Wednesdays and Saturdays 0930 for Body Pump.

After all the times I failed to go 100% in Spin class, through persistence, I am now a certified indoor cycle instructor.  So, you see?  Persistence has paid off.  The photo above is from May 3, 2016 after one of Page Morton's excellent Spin classes.  She's the cutey pie in front with the white hat, chunkin' the deuce.

We have Spin, Zumba, Aqua, Strength, and cardio dance class to offer.
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The Blue Star-shaped Glass

On my geocaching adventures, I happened upon a paperweight of blue glass in the shape of a five-pointed star. It was inside one of the caches I was seeking. The rule was that if I took it, I had to leave something of equal or greater value. I left 2 dollars. Time would reveal that it was not an equal trade.

I don’t know what it is about this simple piece of beautiful glass art, but it has been on my desk for about 4 years now and I am remiss to part with it. I often pick it up and hold it to the light and look through it. It reminds me of Long Beach, California when I was 8 years old for some strange reason.

I used to walk down Long Beach Boulevard into Compton and there was a business with fishing nets and blue glass balls hanging on it. I used to stop and stare at how beautiful they were and the rich color mesmerized me. I imagined pirate ships and exotic islands and untold secrets.

What hold does this crystal have over me that I am so attached to it? I don’t have an answer to that and no doubt the person who released it into the public didn’t think anyone would feel passionately about such a bauble. The truth is they probably haven’t thought twice about it since they placed it.

If asked I wouldn’t even pick blue as my favorite color; that color would be green. Neon green is my choice, like the Christmas tree lights or maybe pistachio sherbet. Is it possible that a green star would have more of an effect on me? Simple pleasures, I know and that brings me round to the purpose of this column.

Living in the moment. 

Late last month a group of us hiked 12 or so miles on the Lone Star Trail up by Huntsville. 12 miles doesn’t sound like much, but strap on a 20 pound backpack and do the numerous water-crossings and root-infested trail and it is a long danged stretch requiring half a day of fairly steady walking. We stopped for a rest and sandwich at the halfway point and that is when I felt compelled to expound on living in the moment.

Some people call it taking time to smell the roses, but it is more than that. It is recognizing that you are at a special place in your life and savoring it. It is having an epiphany that you are having the time of your life. You could be any place at that moment and not recognize how wonderful the experience is. Most of us relive it later and that is when we get connected.

I was on my Spin bike at the gym the other day with a group of sweating people and I glanced at the clock. 20 more minutes! 20 minutes of beating myself down. 20 more minutes of self-abuse… or is it only 20 more minutes to experience something most people wouldn’t recognize as wonderful? At that point my whole mind-set shifted and I felt a surge of emotion. I was in the moment and yes, I can do this in spades – or Spandex! Those last 20 passed in a blink of an eye.

When we go on vacation we take our cameras so we can relive the experience later and we zip past the very experience we came for. The photos don’t do the visit justice and we miss out almost entirely. The sad thing is this is exactly what we continue throughout our lives. I’ve talked to many people who have been on cruises, but not once has anyone really relayed the experience in specific detail.

None of them remembers or reminisces about seeing their own blue star-shaped glass. One of my brothers had a mouse crawl on his lap while he was bear hunting in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. He calmly watched it make a burrow in the heated pillow he was sitting on and will recall that moment over and over again for the rest of his life. Most people would not have the identical memory for sure, but his was amazing.

Children live in the moment almost 100% of the time. As adults we learn to ignore most of our life and focus on emergencies, distractions, delicious food, and tasks. My future is to find more blue star-shaped glass and I’ll have to slow down and make it a point to find it. How about we start today?

How about we slow down to see those little things we are missing. Last night I stepped outside and right above me in the sky was the planet Jupiter glowing like the moon. My mind went immediately to our ancient astronomers and once again I marveled at how they mapped the planets. Early this morning I witnessed Mars and Saturn in the south-eastern sky. Wow! So simple and free and so unnoticed by most.

Like my blue star-shaped piece of glass, most people forget to hold it up to the light.

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Keep on keepin’on? Nope, not me.

Is this your idea of retirement?

 The easy road.  Man, I wish the easy road was reality…  I really do.  It would make life less complicated – or maybe not. The easy road. What a wonderful concept! Roll on, oh silver lining. I guess there really is a silver lining in every dark dirty cloud we accept as our life. Seeing your life as a dark cloud of misfortunes is strictly a matter of choice.

Taunting yourself that everyone seems to have it easier or better than you is self-flagellation at its worst. Poor pitiful Pearl.

I’m a senior citizen.  Yea, I know.  I don’t feel like one.  I feel like life is really opening up opportunities. Of course, real opportunities don’t come to us by winning the lottery, or Publishers Clearing House winnings. Opportunities come with sweat, blood, and often tears. Real opportunities require that four letter word – work and let’s not forget that other bad word, sacrifice.

That peaceful easy feeling Glenn Frey wrote about is not so peaceful or easy when it comes to getting something worth having.  It’s a struggle brother. It’s suffragette city.  Its sunrise on the wrong side of the city, sky high, and six thousand miles away. Yes, it’s real work and there is no easy living. You want it? You work for it, or wait a lifetime for something that will most likely never happen.

I’m retired. Life should be the life of Riley, right? Wrong. Life is a battlefield sister. Let someone else have that hammock and glass of ice tea. You watch that fellow run a marathon in Houston and think you could never do that. Wrong. You can do it, just not in the time they did it. You have to get your buns off the couch and start moving those gams. Get a plan and stick to it.

Jimmy Buffet has it all wrong for the most part. Lying around on the beach drinking tequila and thumping lime slices into the Gulf all the time is for delusional slackers and drunks. All you will end up with is perpetual sunburn and parrot poop on your clothes. Anything worth having is worth working for, remember? That sandy island retreat is a reward and should be a very short one - not a long term existence.

I read an obituary of a man of 86. His 60-something son wrote it and was extolling the work ethic virtues of his father. In the Obit he said his dad was learning Chinese at the time of his death. The list of disciplines he had subjected himself to over the years was amazing. He never let up. To me he is an example of what I should attempt, not that I have a history of taking it easy or anything. I just think there is more and I want it and am willing to work for it.

Sure I play the lotto now and again, but like my youngest brother told me the other day, “Even if you won the Powerball, you would find a way to go back to work”. What he meant was that I would find another discipline to tackle, not go back into the chemical plants. I took this as a compliment.

Physically, there is nothing I am doing harder than the Group X classes at the gym named after the clock.  Boot Camp Monday, cycling (Spin) Tuesday, Les Mills Body Pump Wednesday, cycling again on Thursday, and finishing up with another Body Pump on Saturday. It is hard exhausting work and like my Tuesday Spin instructor Page Morton said the other day, “If this was easy, the place would be packed.”

Do we who push so hard do it because we like to abuse ourselves? Maybe, but the truth is we want short and long term benefits and results and we can’t get them by watching TV or videos of people playing sports. You can’t become a millionaire by watching poker players on TV either. How many times have we said, “Boy, I sure wish I could…” but we are not willing to go the extra mile to make it happen? I know I am guilty.

That silver lining is unreachable for us simply because we are not motivated enough to go after it.  It hurts to admit that to ourselves, but it’s true. Living below our potential is a lifestyle choice. Complacency is the result of those choices. Accepting these low standards becomes what we are. If you don’t like where you are – change it.

That forest full of trees can be cut down one tree at a time, so telling yourself the problem is too large is simply getting back on the hamster wheel you have allowed yourself to traverse. To be honest, I don’t always write such uplifting motivational stuff as this, but we all have areas in our lives that need to be visited now and again. Remember folks, your life is what you make it, so make it or keep dreaming.

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Is couch sitting your plan for old age?

Dick Van Dyke is 90 years old, still dances and eats a pint of ice cream every day.  One of my buddies at the gym is Al and Al is 80 give or take. He comes in 5 times a week to work out and he told me it is the secret to his longevity (that and his wife is quite a bit younger and he has to keep up with her – if you know what I mean).

Jack LaLanne finally died at the ripe age of 97. If you didn’t follow this amazing fitness pioneer, you need to look him up. Back when kids wanted to look like Charles Atlas, Jack was doing it right. In his tight jump suit, he was doing things that worked and will still work. Look up the word Burpee (exercise) on the Internet and then ask yourself if you can do ONE.

Jack LaLanne

If the answer is no, then I have good news for you.  You CAN do it, but it will take a plan and some time and some pain of sorts. The old saying of how do you eat an entire elephant comes to mind here. One bite at a time is the answer. You start with as big of a bite as you can handle and just don’t stop eating.  I have another concept to impart. Eating this elephant is going to take you a lifetime.

Like Jack did and now Dick, and Al, they move to keep moving. My pal Ren Fitts is a gym rat now after being told he was heading for a wheel chair. Does it hurt to push yourself at the gym? You better believe it does. Arthritic knees and joints scream their displeasure and we just push through it. It’s going to happen one way or the other, so why not fight against it?

The simple truth is it’s not too late to start. Did that get through? It’s not too late to start. I know. You say you have no history of exercise and you would be lost at the gym. You don’t know how to use the equipment and you would feel like a sore thumb at a coin-flipping contest. Let me think. There’s about a hundred other reasons for not going, but let’s take a look at how to get started.

Ren Fitts

Roseland, Jenkins, Blue Heron, and Emmitt Hutto Drive have good walking trails and they are free. Get a comfortable pair of shoes and go to one of these places. Your goal is to walk a 15 minute mile. When you can do this, you are ready to join a gym. I go to the one named after the clock, but there are others. The mornings are full of seniors, so that should be your target time, if possible. The evenings have the testosterone/muscles group and the place is crowded, so try to do the mornings.

Almost any person exercising will answer a question and help you with a machine, so don’t be bashful. The treadmill is a good starting place. If you start there, aim at walking at a 3.5 mph pace for one hour. When you can do that without needing a crash cart, move on to the elliptical machines in front of you. During the transition time where you worked-out on the treadmill, observed how to use this particular machine.

When you can do 30 minutes on this piece of equipment, you are ready to use the machines in front of those. You have watched many people during this time operate all of these individual machines, so now all you have to do it imitate them. At any time, you can ask one of the personal trainers (free of charge) to explain how to safely operate any of the machines. They will happily accommodate you.

You are now ready to bump up your training to a whole new level and you have a couple of options. You can hire a personal trainer to train you and train you they will. It’s not cheap though, but we are talking about your future health and fitness. Another option is the Group X classes. Spin class is intensive stationary cycling. Boot camp is anything goes and you are probably not ready for that. Strength & Body Pump is organized and intensive high repetition weight lifting. Zumba is cardio dancing and Yoga is pretzel human body twisting (I don’t do it but should). Do not fear these classes. The instructors are great and will recognize and accommodate your fitness level.

Join a gym or don’t. Exercise is more fun in a group dynamic though and you will meet interesting people who share your desire for better fitness and health. It’s your body, so take care of it and maybe, just maybe when you are 90, you will eat your daily pint of ice cream and then get up and start dancing.

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Exercise is not just for athletes

 I hang out with a pretty tough crowd at the gym. What? Another column about exercising? Geeze, BB can’t you write about food, or maybe give us an update on that danged bacon-luring dog catcher again? We do have an animal control problem here fella! What is your obsession with exercise?

Believe it or not, almost on a daily basis I question not only my motives, and goals, but my own sanity. Here’s how I roll; I do a Boot camp on Monday, Spin class on Tuesday, and Body Pump on Wednesday. I try to convince myself to take Thursday’s off for rest and recuperation – and am partially successful. Friday’s are a run day and since the temp has jumped into the 80’s at daybreak, this has turned my 5K run into something quite embarrassing.

Let’s break this down further and if you are still reading, there is a direct correlation between working your body with boosting your mental health. A good solid push of your muscles equates to a positive state of mind. I love to ask other seniors if they “got your money’s worth” as the exit the gym and 100% report they did, often with a weary grin.

At the gym named after the clock, our Boot camp instructor is a young personal trainer named Chelsea. Last Monday, Chelsea with her sweet demeanor and semi-soft commands nearly “killed off” the entire class of hardcore trainees. I use that term to define a point where people walk out prematurely or collapse at the home-20 and take a good nap in a coma state. Boot camp is a series of exercises that vary week to week designed to challenge ordinary work-out routines.

“I can’t feel my legs, Forrest!” I yelled out at one point and my peeps giggled. You see, working out in a group is fun and sometimes the classes take on a near monkey cage cacophony of squeals and grunts – and laughter as we all go into muscle fail mode. Fail mode is the point where your muscles are strenuously objecting to what your mind has told them they must do.

Our Spin instructor is a lithe cycling gynoid named Page and I swear she is a literal sadist at times. Her sweet smile belies the fact that she routinely tries to break everyone in the class. My friend Elaine came to her first Spin class Monday and I warned her to try and make it through the class by NOT doing what the rest of us do and I watched her grin the entire class as she peddled slowly behind us. In her mind I am sure she thought we were all nuts. The driving music in these classes helps us to get through and I often close my eyes and just peddle like a lunatic. I won’t lie and say it’s easy.

I’ve had a lot of instructors over the years, both in exercise and karate and our Body Pump instructor is the most incredible trainer I’ve ever had the pleasure of training with. Her name is Clarissa and she is indeed an apex instructor and a totally delightful person. Body Pump is a very organized and engineered weight lifting program designed to fatigue every major muscle group in sets of threes or more. Just when your muscles scream for relief, you change to something else. At the end of the class, you are exhausted and for some strange reason, there is a lot of water on the floor around you.

Clarissa knows and sees all and misses nothing. Her commands are as exact as her movements and you immediately are aware that she really cares not only about your safety, but your development. On top of everything else, she will remember your name after the first class. Her instruction is mixed with philosophy, positivity, and encouragement. I am truly impressed by this instructor as you can tell.

The crowd I train with are tough. They have endurance and stamina and take their training seriously. I cannot hang with their schedule though. They often meet at 6am and run for an hour, or come to the gym 2 hours early to lift weights and then take one or more classes. Most are in their 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s too – like me, but I just can’t hang like that.

Those dang women are something else!

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Use it or lose it? I say use it!

Exercise is extremely important to prolong health.  The women in this photo exercise 5 or more times a week.

I wrote about our trip to New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, and Colorado recently and one startling fact stood out to both my bride and I.  There is an obesity epidemic here in Baytown.  Wait a second, don’t stop reading; not yet anyway.  I’ll try not to be offensive.

Granted we only met 5 Texans on our 1 week long trip, as maybe 50% of the people I talked to were from other countries and almost to the person, they were thinner than what is the norm here.  The other 49% were Yankee snow birds and for the most part, thinner also.  But of those 5, 3 were over weight.

I guess Tex-Mex food is the culprit, or maybe it is our high summer humidity.  The winters are wet and cold also.  We have a high spring and fall pollen count!  Yes, that’s why we all stay inside and eat… a lot.  It’s simply not our fault that we can’t get in shape.

I've been threatening (myself) to run a 5k, so I did. However, my mile times were dismal. I jogged the whole time and ended up the 3.1 mile course with 11.24 per mile. I probably could have picked it up, but I needed a baseline. BTW, the Blue Heron Park pond loop is .68 miles around. 1K is .62, so each lap is a good 1K. 9 times around is 6.1 miles or just short of a 10K.

Back in my prime, I ran a sub 6 minute mile on a regular basis and often went under 9 minutes for the mile and a half.  So 11.24 for a mile seems very slow to me.  As an adult, I ran many 10K fun runs and that’s what they were, as I wasn’t competing.  I was always happy to finish the 6.2 miles in under 48 minutes.  I’ve always contended that if you jog a mile in under 8 minutes, you are no longer jogging, but running.  Maybe some coach or trainer can correct me?

I tried to find out who coined the term “use it or lose it” with no luck, but the definition is this:  If a person doesn't exercise his or her physical body, he or she will likely lose strength, stamina and endurance.  Note: Thank the Lord, Hanoi Jane didn’t coin it.

Now this is the test part.  If you can’t get off the couch at 40, you will be pushing a walker by the time you are in your 50’s.  My Vietnam Veteran buddy Ren Fitts has quite a few war-related injuries and although not an old man, he was headed for total knee replacements.  What jerked him sideways was when the doctor told him he had better get used to the idea of using a walker, because the next step is a wheel chair.  This scared him and the man doesn’t scare easily.

Guess what?  Ren joined the gym and began using the swimming pool and treadmill.  The pounds are coming off and so is the pressure on his knees.  His wife is discovering amazing results also.  Ren is a big guy and needs to get more weight off, but he is doing something about that due to his new vision of what he needs to do.  The doctor now tells him he doesn’t need full knee replacements and his surgery will be in and out with a great recovery time.

The Spin class set up to face each other for
competition doing sprints.

At 62, I still have some 10,000 meter fun runs in my future.  My 5000 meter run was just the beginning, but only I can make myself do it.  I have to use it or lose it.  At one time, like karate, running was my life.  Like Mr. Gump, if I was going somewhere, I ran.

I talked to a lady on the pond track the other day and told her about a software App called “Map my run”.  It’s free and once installed on your phone, it will track your time, distance and it even has the route mapped out.  She hopes to run again some day and I told her when she can walk a mile in under 15 minutes, she should consider jogging.

She worried about her knees and was indeed over-weight, but I told her when she can get under 15 minutes, that weight won’t be there.  Every pound you can remove brings relief to those knees.  Use it or lose it folks.  If things have progressed to the point that walking and running are too hard on your joints, go do the pool exercise.  When the strength comes back and the pounds fall off, you will be surprised what you can do again.

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Womens. Don’t underestimate em!

I’m now into 5 straight months at the gym named after the clock and yes, I know the word womens is not grammatically correct, but in a sense, it is.  All women are not the same and my reference is in this vein.  Like fishes, women can be quite diverse and well, different, but in the end, they are still very female in nature, with a certain amount of tenacity that confounds men in general.

The older I get, the more I appreciate their persistence and individuality and I can say that and still basically retain my caveman man-card.  A man-card is a delicate thing at best I reluctantly admit.  Women instinctively know this and we buffoons who carry them, blindly believe we have womens buffaloed… well we don’t and they tolerate us with a generous amount of levity and leeway.

I got my man-card nearly revoked this past Tuesday when I sat my ample rear man parts on the skinny seat of a “spinner” exercise bike at the gym.  It was my second encounter with this heinous and ingeniously designed torture device and I foolishly thought “this time” would be easier.  It wasn’t and the reason is the Spinning instructor - a slim woman in every respect (except for her muscular thighs) is a danged-burned sadist.  Yea, I said it.

Now, this last statement is open for interpretation and probably not the consensus of the “weaker sex” in the class, but I’m telling the truth when I say that she yells out commands pretty much like R. Lee Ermey in the movie “Full Metal Jacket” and she does it with a sweet countenance and smile – which doesn’t fool me one durned bit.

“UP!” she screams and in the mirrors, I see all the womens rise up on their pedals and begin to pump with reckless agonizing abandon.  Hey!  I’m good for the first session of “10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-3-2-2-1!” and I plop down on the seat only to realize with emasculating  horror that the “1” is being held for 10 seconds and all the womens are still up and pumping with mindless zombie giggly enjoyment!

The instructor remains sweat-less and in what can only be described as super human estrogen exertion, pumping her muscular thighs like she is on effortless vacation.  I stare at the floor and I see a growing puddle of…water?  Why didn’t they clean this up before I came?  Who left all this salty water here?  It’s a total tapestry of injustice!

“UPPPP!  MORE!  YOU CAN DO IT! (and then the kicker)  I LOVE YOU!”  I love you?  What?  She doesn’t love me.  I don’t feel any love.  Nope; none at all.  Wait.  My fellow peddlers are all grinning.  Yeah, they feel the love.  I don’t.  I don’t get it.  “Why am I here?  Why did I come here today?  Did my Bride do this to me?   Yes, she’s also grinning.  Did she coerce me?  Am I still sane?  What is the meaning of life?  Am I a Democrat?”  So many confusing questions and all I see is the fog of estrogen rolling over me.

My mind is cloudy. I have “gym-brain”.  Gym-brain, that elusive narcotic state of induced endorphins, where a person truly believes they are rational and walk around in the gym like an extra on the Walking Dead TV show… and I keep peddling.  I cannot fail here.  After all, I am in the company of the weaker sex, right?  I need to man-up and I do, but my masculine backside doesn’t leave the seat, even though all the spandex in the room rises to the commands of the instructor.  Certain portions of my anatomy are now so numb I wonder if I am being skewered.

I close my eyes and pedal furiously.  I’ll catch up.  Yea, I am still in the race.  I have an ace in my pocket these womens don’t have.  I have bulging man-muscles and lots of them.  I’ll power past them and they know it and I know it.  Meanwhile the puddle of water is growing below my bike and I suddenly have an ugly epiphany and it’s not a happy one.

It’s not my fault that I am sweating more than everyone else.  It’s hotter over here.  For some stupid reason, the two fans are pointed more towards the womens than me.  If I had the cool wind they have, I could ride in the same easy comfort.  What, my 20 ounces of water is gone from my water bottle?  The danged weak bottle must have sprung a leak and that is why the floor is so wet.  Yes, that’s it and such a simple explanation!  Whew, that’s a relief and I gather comfort from this discovery!

“UPPPPP”!  What tha?  Again?  Doesn’t she realize we live on the Gulf Coast and there are no hills here?  Is she from Idaho or something?  There is a distinct smell of moldy potatoes in the gym.  What about coasting?  How come there is no coasting in this spin class?  I don’t get it.  My gym-brain is swinging all over the pace as I try to convince myself that I am still in the race.  I am, right?

You’re danged right I am and as the instructor tells us we are finished, I look around and smile.  I can do this and the ladies are gracious enough to not point out that I am as wet as a whale, as I mop the “spill” on the floor with my towel.  “I’ll show them next week what a real man can do.”

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