Tag Exercise

A Sporting Proposition

Michael 10 Comments
I was all set to go off and a rant about something or other and then I heard this topic on the radio yesterday and I said, “Yes, yes, I agree 100%. I must tell the world!” What could that be that instilled so much passion on a Sunday afternoon? Golf. More specifically, my intense dislike for golf.
 
I’m sorry, but yes, I hate golf. I think I’ve played one complete round of golf in my life. My long life. I’m sure I played one round only because I rarely give up on anything. I may not like it but if I signed up for it, I’ll give it my best try. I tried. It didn’t. 
 
Especially now with opportunities to do almost nothing, golf courses are apparently doing a booming business. I just don’t get the point. It seems so random to me but if a billion and a half people want to wander around in the hot sun wearing carrying 3,090 pounds of equipment on their backs and none of it can be used to bake a good cookie, well I say to each his own. But not my own.
 
But here’s the thing I get even less, professional golf. They claim it’s a sport but come on now. Where are the fans, real fans, with hats and jerseys and tailgating in the country club parking lot before the tournament? “Tournament” is pushing it. When was the last time there was an office pool with golfer brackets? And a real sport would have walk up music blaring from the PA system when a golfer approaches the tee. Those few fans you do see following along don’t seem terribly fanatic. No wild cheers when a particularly well hit ball goes where its supposed to go (assuming you can actually see where the ball goes), no boos for the referee when a ball is called out of bounds, no jeers for the golfer who plunks a shot into a water or sand hazard. While I’m on the topic of crowd noises, what’s with the TV announcers and all that whispering? They’re hanging out a mile away from the action inside an air conditioned control room yet they speak barely loud enough for the sound engineer to recognize human speech while they do all they can not to distract the professional. Really? 
 
So, no, I don’t like golf. Sorry if I’ve offended you. I understand how polarizing this topic may be but I feel it’s important to be able to exercise my freedom of speech. But I refuse to exercise it on the links.
 
NoGolf
 

Cramming for Finals

Michael 9 Comments

I have a test next week. I haven’t taken a test for years and frankly I’m a little concerned. I have just over a week to study up as much as I can for my stress test next Friday.

Yes, you read that right. A stress test. Go ahead and laugh. Here, I’ll even help. A guy asks his friend’s wife where he is. “At the bar. Studying.” “Studying? What kind of test can you study for at the bar?” “His urine test of course.” Ha. Ha.

But this is different. I think I really do have to study for this stress test. Stay with me for a while. There are two basic types of stress tests. One is an EKG/exercise test and one is a exercise/rest/perfusion test. The common factor between the two is the exercise part. Walk on a treadmill until your heart rate is elevated to some specific level or you fall over, whichever comes first. Maybe it’s not put quite so cavalierly by those administering them but that’s basically how the stress is induced during stress tests.

I’m not worried about getting my heart rate up. I know I can walk far enough to get my heart pumping. I’ve been walking again these past few days now that it is nice again here in the until recently frozen northeast. But the problem is I’ve only done that recently and only outside. I might be a bit out of shape from not taking advantage of the treadmills in the exercise room but that doesn’t concern me either. No, what has me wondering about how I’m going to do with this test is that darn treadmill.

Treadmill

Image: Freepik

I can’t work treadmills. That’s why I hadn’t taken advantage of them during the cold weather months. I can’t walk on them. How, you ask, does one say he can’t walk on a treadmill? Because I fall over. I walk with a cane. The reasons don’t really matter but what happens if I don’t is that I tend to tip over. Really. I also wobble and waver. Walking in a straight line is not one of my talents. And yes, I was once stopped at a random sobriety checkpoint, and no, the nice officer didn’t understand that either so don’t feel bad if it’s not making sense to you. On a treadmill I won’t have my cane so I’ll have to hold on to the rails and when I do that I can’t swing my arms and when I do that I lose my balance and when I do that I fall over. (The only person I ever knew who actually fell over during a stress test was a friend of mine who ended up being prepped for coronary bypass surgery minutes after hitting the floor.) (His problem had nothing to do with not being able to work a treadmill. He just had a bad heart.) (True story.)

So, that’s why I think I should study and put a few miles on my sneakers on a treadmill. So I don’t fall over. I’m not worried they might mistake me for one needing emergency open heart surgery. I’m worried they might say they can’t get any useful information out of my test and either a) chemically induce the stress (not pleasant), or b) give up (not an option). Since this is part of my ongoing kidney transplant evaluation you see why Option b) is not an option but Option a) is still not on my “things I’d love to be doing instead of falling over” list.

This is one test I really cannot afford to fail. But I’d be just fine with a C. So I’m thinking I have to study.

 

Travel Size

Michael 2 Comments

Friends of mine are traveling this week. My sisters were out on the road last week. My daughter is planning a trip in a few weeks. Everyone is traveling.

I always liked traveling in the fall. You don’t have the summer crowds or its heat and humidity to deal with. It’s well before the holiday travel seasons so those crowds are avoided. The weather is still warm so you’re not stuck packing multiple layers and trying to figure out what to do with that heavy winter coat when you get unbearably hot in either the plane, train, or car. And if you catch it at the right time for leaf changing, it’s a pretty trip. All in all, fall is the time to go.

But there’s one thing that fall vacationing isn’t noted for. Unless you are travelling far south (or far north for the Southern Hemisphere crowd), hotel swimming pools are not an option.  Oh there are certainly those high class establishments that sport the heated indoor variety of aquatic recreation facilities, but even in my best year those places weren’t within my travel budget. No, the places I visited were of the kind that sported the tarp covered outdoor variety of aquatic recreation facilities.

GymIf you are looking for exercise while vacationing around the autumnal equinox your choices are limited to the indoor exercise room or sprinting across the hotel parking lot to the neighboring bar and grill and back. Now, about those exercise rooms. They are almost universally labeled “Fitness Center” on their door signs and the hotel floor plans but they aren’t likely to be mistaken for your quintessential, full service YMCA. You’ll find no sauna, no juice bar, no Pilates classes. These “centers” do not boast of juice bars or healthy living cafes. And they have no indoor pools! There are, at best, travel size “fitness centers.”

Still, the “fitness center” was always the first place I would seek out on my arrival at an unfamiliar hostelry. I went not to exercise but to observe. No, not to observe others exercising. That would be creepy. I went to observe their cleanliness. I liked to see how clean “the fitness center” was so I knew if I could feel comfortable using the bathrooms. No it’s not like you can’t use a bathroom while you’re traveling, but at least you should know if you could feel comfortable doing it.

See, those travel sizes do come in handy.

I Got Nothing

Michael 7 Comments

When I sat down to write this post I realized that I really didn’t have an idea for this post. Not that I had one and forgot which I’ve done and have written about. Not that I had a bad idea for a post which I’ve probably had more times than not but wrote about anyway. Not that I had an idea but had written about several times already and even I knew that one more time wasn’t going to be a good idea. No, when I say I really didn’t have an idea, I really didn’t have an idea.

It’s been a decent enough week. I’ve felt well so I used some of that energy and did some shopping. Most of the time a good shopping trip will end up with fodder for a good blog post and sometimes just the act of shopping ends up blogworthy (which I’ve also already written about fairly recently). This week’s shopping was pretty much that. I went shopping. Bought a couple of shirts, some kitchen stuff, a canister of that newfangled spray on sun-screen. But it was all fairly normal. No weird sales signs, no clueless sales clerks, no inappropriately dressed fellow customers. Well, there was that one lady in the bathing suit with a cover-up masquerading as clothes. How could I tell there was a bathing suit under what outwardly appeared to be a cover-up? Maybe the dripping water that trailed her like an ill-trained puppy. But since I’ve done more than a couple of posts on fashion rules for the real world I couldn’t see putting yet another together at the expense of the nonfashionista and her screaming need for attention.

Since the last post I’ve spent a lot of time at the pool. I’ve switched from morning walk to morning swim at least on non-dialysis days for my exercise. In fact, it’s worked out quite well for me. Last summer, actually last summer, last fall, last spring, the summer before last, and so on and so one and etc. I’ve spent most of my exercise energy on walking. Also covered in several posts. But since I’ve started on dialysis I’ve been slacking on the sidewalk shuffle. If you’ve never had dialysis I’ll add in my prayers tonight that you never have to have dialysis for one of the things they don’t tell you when they stress that you’ll only spend 7% of your week on the machine is that you spend about 40% of your week recovering from that time. Walking just a mile or two the morning after dialysis isn’t just out of the question, it’s not even a question. Period. But swimming seems to be a different animal. I’ll swim a lap or two then climb out of the pool and rest in a comfy lounge chair under the morning sun. After a few minutes rest (ok, after about 20 minutes rest), it’s back in for some water calisthenics. More rest, more laps. More rest, some wading. I get exercise and a killer tan without having to stop for a rest when I’m a quarter mile from the nearest park bench. But hardly blogworthy.

And we’ve had Father’s Day. It’s the rare holiday that goes by without a mention of it by me. I’ve even invented my own holidays just to get a post idea. Maybe not invented but certainly given more weight to National Name Tag Day than even its proponents did. But everybody knows about Father’s Day. Not much I could add to it. I could talk about my gifts but they wouldn’t hold your interest as much as mine. I could talk about dinner and the fabulous glaze we came up with for the grilled salmon but then when the cook book comes would you still buy it? Or I could talk about how we narrowly escaped the severe weather than muscled its way into the festivities just as the grill was cooling. But how many weather posts can one blog present?

No, I just have to own up to up. I got nothing. So if you were expecting to find something here to pique your interest, go to the search page and plug in your desired topic. Chances are you’ll get something back. Till then, I’ll try to work on something more substantial for Thursday.

Have a great week!

 

GYM? I thought you said GIN!

Michael Leave a comment

The Olympics are here! The Olympics are here! Oh, wait, that’s how I began the last post. It still applies. I’ve noticed that since the Olympic coverage started on TV that the gym has been getting a real work out. (Yeah, I know. That was terrible. Sorry.) I may be wrong but I think the former definitely has something to do with the latter.

I remember as a young boy being taken by the Olympic spirit every 4 years. At least I was once or twice every 4 years before it settled in just how much work it took to land on the front of a Wheaties box. While the 1964 Olympic cycling events were being dominated by the Italians, this young Italian was pedaling his way through his own backyard qualifying heats. I didn’t fare much better than the 18 Americans who made it to Tokyo that October but my newspaper route never got delivered faster than during those two weeks.

How long have parents been trying to get their children outside for some physical activity – before the Pokémon Go craze even? For generations the Olympics gave parents a hand doing just that. Personally, I think it’s cool that the exercise bug is biting a slightly older crowd now.

Maybe we’re just getting to be a slightly more physical people and that’s why more folks are exercising. Or it could be that old drive to see oneself immortalized in breakfast food that is driving so many people to the fitness center. All I know is that where once I had my pick of machines I now have to arrive early lest I am forced to tackle my cycling on the outside on a bicycle that actually goes somewhere. I mean, sure, I have one of those but I haven’t seen my paper bag for years now.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Life Needs a Soundtrack

Michael Leave a comment

Do you know a problem with real reality? There are no clues to what’s coming next. Life needs a soundtrack.

Watch any movie or television show, even the so-called “reality” shows, and you see that they all have musical accompaniment. It’s quite clear when someone or something is to be happy, sad, humorous, suspenseful, romantic, mysterious, thrilling, or chilling. Just about the only time the background is silent is when the director intends for extreme drama. Even commercials have background music. Everything from auto insurance to male erectile dysfunction therapy has an associated tune. Why can’t we.

It sounded like a good idea when it popped into my head. Heaven knows there’s enough music up there. I’m always mentally humming a tune, a jingle, a theme. How hard would it be for that to be amplified and spill out around me so I know for sure what mood I’m in – not to mention everyone else who might be in the area?

It’s hard enough to get through a day without being misunderstood. Think of all the relationships that could be saved if there was a full orchestra ready to turn despair to hope, hope to thought, and thought to action. Imagine the peace people could experience if daily routines were spiced up with a bluesy southern anthem or smoothed out by a soft jazz composition. Think of your daily commute to the tune of a driving chorus instead of the tune of blaring horns and mufflers in need of repair.

If you really want to explore this idea, can we consider making life a musical? On second thought, I don’t know if I can handle a sudden eruption of song and dance while standing in line at the deli counter. “You’re the ham that I want. Ooo, ooo, ooo honey,” doesn’t run trippingly off the tongue even if you are looking for that tasty lunchmeat. No, just a soft background perhaps of Dave Matthews Band’s Pig song.

Like I said, it sounded like a good idea when it popped into my head.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

That’s a Bargain!

Michael Leave a comment

There’s something very satisfying about finding a great buy. I’ve run into quite a few lately. No, not at the used car dealer, not on a call from a broker, not even at the dollar store – and you know how much I love the dollar store. The bargains I’ve been running across have been at the meat counter.

Really, the meat counter. Everything we’ve heard this summer says meat is the last place where there should be bargains. Droughty conditions are still responsible for less than the traditionally fatted calf not to mention the somewhat older steaks on the hooves. Bird flu is dropping chickens like clay pigeons. Pigs seem to be making a comeback but bacon prices are still playing the yo-yo game. Meat just isn’t on top of the specials lists.

One of the effects of not going to work every day is having lots of time on one’s hands. And I still have to get my exercise in. At this stage of my recovery walking is the best exercise I can take on. But with temperatures in the 80s and 90s a casual walk around the neighborhood could mean a sudden case of heat stroke, or worse. The answer is daily walks around the local mega-mart.  A trip along the perimeter is quite a healthy distance and I get to pass produce, bakery, deli, fish, meat, dairy, and the as-seen-on-TV section. With the exception of the tele-specials it’s almost like shopping at a local farmers market. I can buy just the veggies and salad fixings I’ll be using that day, I can get fresh rolls every morning, the fish monger is laying out his catches of the day just as I’m passing buy, and at the meat market they are marking down all the stuff left from the day before. I’m saving 30 to 40% from the regular price because they want it out of their refrigerators and into someone else’s. Mine will do.

If you figure the regular weekly shoppers are picking up a few days’ worth of meals on one trip, they are ending up with the same day old product at home in a couple of days. I’m buying what I’m going to be cooking in a few hours. And saving a bundle doing it.

Yeah, I know it’s a little over the top for just a couple of dollars but it gives me something to do before the noon news comes on. You have to make a little fun for yourself somehow. What better way than a good hunk of meat, fresh veggies, and a gadget that lets you make a bowel out of several strips of bacon. That’s a bargain.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Weight Not, Want Not

Michael Leave a comment

Three years ago I said to myself, “Self,” I said, “you have got to lose some weight!” I was easily 50 pounds overweight. I not only was putting on pounds, I was losing height. The inches I lost going up and down found their way to my middle and went round and round. I recall when I was told I had to start getting in shape my stock answer was “round is a shape!” But truth be told, I felt pretty bad. I was always short of breath, I took elevators to go one floor (down, even), and my favorite place to go was the airport because there were people movers all over. If I had to walk all that way on my own I’d just sit and wait a while and eventually my breathing and heart rate would get back close to normal.

I was certain I could lose weight. I watched TV. I saw the ads for pills, exercise CDs, diet books, and portable gym equipment. In just 3 weeks, 6 weeks, 30 days, or 90 days I too could lose inches and pounds. I was ready to take all the “before” pictures if I could just bend over far enough to get the camera case off the floor. And if pills, exercise, and diet didn’t work – or didn’t get started – I had a secret weapon. I would monitor my portions and eat less. And I did. I only had one rack of ribs for dinner, half a chicken at one meal, only two appetizers even if the special was for three, and I always shared dessert. I rarely had soft drinks unless they were mixed with bourbon and I even started drinking light beer for a little while. Even with all that, I still didn’t lose weight. In fact, I gained! By the time that year was over I was exactly 100 pounds heavier than what the height/weight charts said I should have weighed.

Two years ago I said to myself, “Self,” I said, “this would be a whole lot easier if I wasn’t so fat.” The surgeon agreed with me but said I really needed to do this. So during the procedure to remove the cancer, all or part of a couple organs were removed. And finally I lost some weight. Since then I’ve had three more surgeries, five more hospitalizations, several outpatient procedures, and quite a bit more weight loss.

I am 90 pounds lighter than I was three years ago, only 10 pounds away from a goal I would have otherwise been proud to have reached. I still get short of breath and I still take elevators for just one floor. That’s because I can’t walk a flight of steps without becoming over-exerted. I’d like to take an “after” picture but when I get down to the floor I have to have somebody help me back up. Eventually the stamina will return, the flexibility will come back, and those last 10 pounds will disappear.

All I have to do is sit around and wait a while.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

You Give Me 15 Minutes, I’ll Give You … You Know

Michael Leave a comment

This week among the junk mail was a notice of “Big Savings!” from a local car dealer. Right there with their tire specials, tune-ups specials, air conditioning service specials, and brake specials was their “Signature 29 Minute Oil Change” now at a special price. Isn’t that special? I don’t know why but it made me think why 29 minutes, why not a half hour? And then I thought even more. Whatever happened to the 15 minute oil change?

Surely you remember the 15 minute oil change places. There were lots of them and they were everywhere. I remember going to them. I also remember they always took more than 15 minutes. They spent at least 15 minutes on asking you what type of oil you wanted (if I knew that I’d do my own oil change), do you want your old filter or may they discard it (yuck!), will you be needing new windshield wipers today (I hope not, it’s a convertible and the top is down), would you be interested in joining their savings club (here’s a brochure you can read while we huddle around your car), and do you have any coupons (why do they always ask about couponS when they (the couponS) always say “cannot be combined?”). Then a squadron of oil changers descended on your vehicle checking tire pressure, topping off windshield washer fluid, cleaning headlights, checking coolant, transmission, steering and brake fluids, examining air filters, and changing the oil. Then another 15 minutes of post-change summary included the status of your fluids (always due for something), air filter (always dirty), windshield wipers (always worn), and tires (holding up pretty well and aren’t you lucky because we don’t sell them here).

Well, I’ve come up with some things that really do take only a quarter of an hour and make you better for them! For instance, in 15 minutes or less you can start an exercise program. You’ll notice general health improvements in most low to moderate impact exercises including walking. After a few weeks you may want to increase your activity time to 30 minutes but that’s still less time than it took to get a 15 minute oil change!

Staying with health, in less than 15 minutes you can check your blood pressure and pulse, and breathing rate and oxygen level at home. Every day if you want. Even young, seemingly healthy people can have high blood pressure and never know it. For a few dollars and a few minutes you can buy and use a blood pressure monitor that measures your pressure and heart rate. Another inexpensive tool is the pulse oximeter to measure how much oxygen is in your blood and you do it bloodlessly. This little thing does it by clamping onto your fingertip. Learning how to measure your breathing rate is easy. You probably already have everything you need – a watch with a second hand and your lungs.

A whole world of 15 minutes or less is right in your kitchen. A hot breakfast of ham and eggs or a bowl of oatmeal takes about as much time as it does to toast a bagel and find the cream cheese. You can make a whole light dinner in 15 minutes. Boil your favorite pasta in water for about a minute less than the package directions instruct. While that’s going on sauté sliced green peppers, and broccoli in olive oil, then add some spinach to wilt. Toss in your cooked pasta, top with shredded parmesan and you have a delicious pasta prima vera. If you’re willing to use a pre-made pizza shell or store bought dough you can shape, top, and bake a pizza, then let it rest for a few minutes while you make a small salad for the side and you have another dinner in half the time it takes to get one delivered. For something more fun, season one pound of ground beef with salt and pepper, add just a drizzle of olive oil, and splash in a couple of squirts of hot sauce.  Shape into four patties, grill or broil for 4 to 5 minutes on each side for medium and let rest for a couple minutes. While the patties are cooking, slice a few potatoes, toss with oil, and roast in a 400 degree oven for 12 minutes turning once. As soon as they come out, season with salt, pepper, paprika, Cajun seasoning, grated cheese, or whatever you and 3 friends feel like. Dinner for four and you didn’t give your guests enough time to talk about you.

And the ultimate less than 15 minute activity – reading this blog twice a week! Even a lengthy post like today’s takes maybe 5 minutes. Do that twice a week and you still have time to make a comment, smile, laugh, cry, or curse at your screen as appropriate, and/or scratch your head and wonder “who is this guy?”

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Scared Skinny

Michael Leave a comment

Recently we had the opportunity to be in a Sears store.  Sears is one of the last places where you can buy just about anything.  After we had wandered past the lawn tractors, fountains, kitchen utensils, refrigerators, bedding, fine jewelry, cameras, vacuum cleaners (got a good deal in that department) linens, furniture, and cookware, we strolled by the exercise equipment.  We’re pretty certain we heard a voice from the acoustic tile say, “Be afraid.”

We aren’t completely unaware of exercise.  We run errands.  We climb the ladder to success.  We dive into dinner and we jump to conclusions.  But we hadn’t been introduced to these person trainers.

The first items we noticed were the stair climbers.  He of We had an immediate thought. He would need a step stool to climb onto one of these climbers.  She of We confirmed that with her thought, this one spoken.  “Do they have to be that large?”  Large they were.  The pad that we assumed one placed one’s foot would be sufficient to accept the Incredible Hulk’s foot, or perhaps King Kong.  Kong probably doesn’t need a piece of equipment to help with his climbing.

The treadmills loomed next.  He of We found his voice and recalled the simple rotating track and three position switch (Off, Slow, Fast) of the model his father used some fifteen or so years ago.  These machines had displays on them that looked like the main display in the NASA control room as portrayed in “Apollo 13.”  In output and in size.  The tread itself looked to be able to hold a small family, a couple vowed to exercise together, or a man and his large, well-trained dog.  Checking out the display a little closer we discovered that one could make the treadmill go uphill, downhill, fast, slow, moderate, level, uneven, or any combination, or a programmed course encompassing the entire variety.  Just like walking outside.  (Be afraid.)

We also saw weight machines, dumbbells, kettle bells, exercise balls, and those new dumbbells that have the weights inside them that shift back and forth when you shake them.  There were exercise bikes, all larger than either of our own bicycles and all with places to put water bottles which neither of our own has.  The stationary skiers were longer than your average cross county ski that they are supposed to mimic.  And in the corner of the display, a boxer’s heavy bag.  Probably laughing at us.

We suppose running laps around a football field, riding bikes along a trail, and doing aerobics in front of the television are just maintenance.  If you really want to be in shape you’ve got to get one of these.  Otherwise, where will you hang your laundry?

 Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?