Work on This

I admire anyone who has the drive to wake up each day and work out. I applaud the lady-clutch in my neighborhood, dogs in tow, that walk miles around our manicured neighborhood each day. Well done. I am in awe of my husband and his buddy Howie, who train daily, sometimes twice daily for ultra runs that exceed 50 miles. Nice work baby. My daughter Remi trains 5 times a week on the tennis court and her Californian best friend Summer laps hundreds of butterfly and backstroke miles six days a week for her swim team. God bless youth. My Aunt Leslie recently started trail hiking, gyming and power walking every day and my mother-in-law Marcia just bought herself a bike to ride around her gated community. Brava ladies.

Summer's Fly

Do me a favor, don't call me and tell me about it. I cannot pretend to share in your post workout adrenaline high. Your ecstasy is yours alone. I will do my best to be happy that you just bench pressed your own weight. Good for you that you just ran farther than you ever have before. Mazel tov on your new racing bike you Lance Armstrong wannabe. Thumbs up to you on Facebook after you've posted your fist pump picture crossing a marathon finish line. Really, good for you.

Here are my excuses. I'm not interested in working out. I have horrible arthritic knees (true). I just can't seem to achieve the endorphin-high exercise junkies describe (never). I came close once when I took a horrible spill on my blacktopped driveway and split my knee open brutally. My brain released an enormous surge of adrenaline and instead of losing my breath and then wailing, I couldn't stop laughing a wickedly high-pitched moaning laughter that freaked my kids. The adrenaline felt great. The knee which ended up in surgery, not so much. 

Another hard earned medal

Another excuse, I simply can't find the time. Todd can train for ultra runs because I am home with the kids. It's because of my sacrifice he keeps bringing home medals. We both can't do it. Really, I swear. No matter that we have a treadmill in our basement. I use it to hang wet laundry to dry. Best excuse ever, I did some brisk shopping at the mall and walked its length twice. I'm plum-tuckered out from the intensity.

Once when dropping Remi off at the tennis center, we parked at the back of the lot. We were being silly and in a rare moment of momentum, I took off racing to the door. Remi had no interest in racing me. Instead she preferred the view from behind and landed in hysterics over the a) sight of me running at all and b) the way my ass jiggled from side to side. She begs me daily to, "Do it again mom, run and make your butt jiggle..."

I really need a trainer to motivate me and it's just too expensive. Plus, and I couldn’t make this up, I have bad ankles from my bad knees. I also have a bad hip due to my bad ankles and my bum knees. See, it's all cascading into place now. I also have a flat arch in my left foot that really slows me down and I recently injured my right calf muscle which doesn't want to heal.  It also might rain, be a full moon, my dad grew up on shtetl in Europe, I ate a muffin today, my mom is leaving for Boston, Grandma Marcia has to play Mahjong and I have to clean the toilets. How could I possibly exercise?

This brings me full circle and back to my admiration of all exercise lovers in my life. Keep it up. I hear running clears your mind and decreases the appetite. I'll never know. It's supposed to be super refreshing to cycle and feel the fresh air envelop and encourage you. Hmmm. Zumba is supposed to make you feel sexy and enthused and enhance your curves. So does eating strawberries dipped in chocolate in a black negligee (trust me it’s easier).

And I am full of shit and super jealous. Nike's "just do it" is easier said than done. At my best so far, I can, "just think about it." I am a constant let down to Nike.

My mom had it right years ago. She joined a circuit gym with the following workout proposition: Just show up, we'll do the rest. The circuit's expectation was simple. Position yourself on each machine and it moved your muscles for you - literally. Nice work mom. And to think I ever mocked her blind ambition. She was a pioneer for people like me. Shame on me. It's because of doubters like me that company went out of business forever. In the meantime, enjoy your sweat and burn.  If you need me, I'll be at the mall getting in my daily dose of cardiovascular activity.