I Am What I Chew

must get fit...must get fit...must get fit

I should be rooting for them.  Everybody and his cousin made a New Year’s Resolution to start working out. The shiny new determination coupled with a free-month discount offer mailed out by the Y has resulted in an overflow at the gym. There is no place to park, there is a wait for the best machines (the ancient rowing gizmo is always free) and the entry is so packed with kids we can’t even get in the door.

The old-timers tell me this happens every January and that it will be back to normal by the end of February.  And I can’t wait.

As a fairly new fitness buff myself, you’d think I’d be happy for the newbies to discover what exercise can do for their physical and mental health.

But, no. I’m counting the days until they’re gone. I hate this in myself. I’m working on improving my attitude. Meanwhile, get off of my treadmill!

not my actrual gym bag

So, today I spent waaaay too much time hunched over the computer trying to de-bug a project. All of a sudden, it was 4:30. Time to go to my water aerobics class.

I faced a dilemma. Go to class, like I should, or take a nap, like I wanted to? Or, watch funny dog videos on YouTube until it was too late to go to class, thereby avoiding the decision.

I did the right thing. I grabbed my little pink gym bag and headed for the Y. And it felt goooood.

A small victory over my habitual sloth, but nonetheless a step in the right direction.

It’s all about the everyday choices, people.

Corky, aka Little Miss FartyPants

When I talked my husband into getting a dog, a process that involved much manipulation and some outright lying, the thing that persuaded him the most was my promise to get lots of exercise walking our new fur baby.

Two years later, I’m getting lots of exercise, but not with the dog.

Corky, our French Bulldog, is what can nicely be referred to as “untrainable.”  In other words, she’s stupid.  She still doesn’t understand that the halter and leash mean serious power walking, not a zig-zag nose-to-the-ground sniff fest. You’d be surprised how strong a 25-pound bulldog can be.  She pulls me all over the neighborhood in search of the latest messages posted by other dogs on fence posts and car tires.  Here’s a message for you: hurry up and squat!

True to the spirit of my promise, I am getting a lot more exercise now that we have a dog.  Here’s how I do it.  I take Corky out for a quick pee, put her in her crate and then get in the car and drive to the Y.

New Zealanders are hip to the noodle

This week, it’s all about the noodle.  I am learning to love aqua fitness and my fine foam friend, the aqua noodle.

I wish I had invented this guy (being demonstrated at left by a bunch of New Zealanders).  Not only does it hold you up in the deep end of the pool in a much cooler way than, say, water wings, you can straddle it and ride it like a pony.  Oh, yeah.

I do know who invented one kind of noodle – the instant ramen variety that sustains so many college students.  It was Mokofuku Ando, the Japanese magnate who spent a year in a shed perfecting the drying process and giving birth to both instant ramen and Cup-O-Noodles.  I know this because I just finished a fascinating memoir called “The Ramen King and I: How the Inventor of Instant Noodles Fixed My Love Life,”  The author is funny guy and NPR commentator Andy Raskin, who (whom?) I had the pleasure of meeting when he spoke to our San Francisco writing club.

My world would be no different if Momofuku had failed to reach his goal of inventing this particular over-processed, high-sodium dehydrated food, but I can’t imagine life without my aqua noodle.  Thanks, nameless person who thought of this. Hi ho Silver, away!