Sunday, September 15, 2013

Weight Until You Hear This


My latest let's get well routine is working out with weights. Great big gigantic heavy duty 5 pound weights.

*Cough cough sputter huff puff cough cough sputter huff puff*

OK that was the most painful 180 seconds of my life.

I started with working out with canned goods from my little motorhome pantry. But ya know, I buy mine out of the dent and scratch reduced bins. If it's a veggie or fruit without sugars, it's in my cart.

Funny how my life has come full circle. From cooking for the rich and famous in zillion dollar villas and yachts where only the freshest and best will do, to learning how to stretch a dollar ten different ways while smiling and laughing picking through the dents looking for veggies.

Smiling is free. Laughing is free. Savor both for the price of none. 



I need to get my strength back.  My adventures aren't over, but I can't languish around waiting for a miracle that just might not happen. Anything to avoid the medical mongers. 

So... I was trying to use a couple of dented cans for weight lifting. *Gurgle slush gurgle*

But I have trouble gripping them. They are too cumbersome for my hands that used to do all sorts of wonderful tasks. I would occasionally drop them startling the dog and scaring me toes.

The cans were looking pretty beat up. Then there is the problem of the labels falling off while working with them. Sweaty palms? Some meals became mystery surprises a few days later.

One day I opened up two blank dented cans. I couldn't remember what was in them.

*Sigh*

Oh look we're having red beets and red kidney beans for dinner tonight. Yum.

So I went dumpster diving around the corner, dug out some half gallon milk cartons, tried filling those with water as weights. The handles were so tiny, my fingers were going numb. I kept accidentally dropping one or the other.

*SPLAT*

I never knew how flimsy milk cartons were until you drop them outside on the concrete patio a few times.

One day the Bark Ranger and I strolled through the park, casually digging through picnic garbage cans until we found some small water bottles with caps. I spent way too much time at the swim beach trying to fill them with sand. Where's a little kid when you need one?

Lift, curl, hold it, uncurl, stretch, lift... oh oh oh...



They didn't seem heavy enough. They were clunky to hold. But for a few days this seemed to work. One day I accidentally dropped one denting it. I picked it up trying to push the dent back out, but somehow popped the lid off. A pile of red sand spilled out landing on my feet.

I contemplated getting another 6.6 pound doggy and working out that way.

Lifting puppies.

But Harley is such a wiggle worm and a very big hand full all by himself. I looked around my tiny motorhome imagining if he had a twin as crazy and energetic as him.

*Shutter shake shutter*

I'd love to have a kitty. But how to find a cat that can sustain indefinitely at 6.6 pounds?  Harley simply refuses to get any bigger, sometimes his weight drops down because he is just an active doggy with no sign of letting go of his joyful puppy ways.

Finally I worked and reworked my budget to go buy a pair of 5 pound weights in the name of health. Bound to be cheaper than the frightening cost of seeing a doctor. The past year or so, I had noticed that weights rarely turn up in the nearly new shops.  I once found a complete rusty set suitable for an avid athlete and they wanedt a bloody fortune for them. I just need something simple to jump start me.

I could feel the teeny tiny itsy bitty difference my cans, bottles and cartons of sand had made.

Even just small stuff can go a long ways in the positive benefits of staying alive.

When I finally ventured out to a real store to go have a look-see, it's a good thing I was shopping alone, because I spent nearly an hour fretting over which ones to get. Luckily no one helps you in stores these days, you are pretty much left on your own to find things, figure them out, test them, open up the package, close them back again and so on.

If anyone was watching me behind hidden cameras, they probably thought I was daffy thinking I was at a gym as I played around with all their equipment on display. The maddening part is trying to find the correct prices. It seems shopping for new stuff is very mysterious. You have no idea what stuff costs unless you can match it up to a shelf sticker that may or may not be on the same aisle as the merchandise.



I settled on the ones that felt great in my hands and were hexagon shaped. Since the 5 pound ones felt ridiculously heavy, I figured those were the ones to get. (By the way, a few weeks later as I write this, they seem even heavier...)

Embarrassingly enough, I was so pooped from my store workout that I had to put the ten pounds of weights in the rolling cart. I pushed this around the store another half mile or so looking for a scanner to find out the secret pricing.

The scanner had a note scribbled on it "Out of order".

Sheesh. I need a nap now. I am pooped out.

While I was looking for the mattress department, I stumbled across the exit. What the heck, might as well check out go home and nap in my own bed.

Two cashiers and seventeen people in the 20 items and under lane. The other cashier was only nine deep in people but with overflowing buggies and entire families in tow.

Good grief. This is turning into a career.  A whole afternoon spent figuring out the cost of two 5 pound weights.  I prayed my little doggy hadn't perished while waiting for me outside.

Finally it was my turn. I heard the couple behind me loudly grown when I asked for a price check. The cashier gave me 3 seconds to make up my mind after tersely quoting the price to me. She looked like she was well overdue for a break.

A big long sigh and a huge leap of faith. I bought them. It seemed so frivolous to be buying something brand new that wasn't necessary like shelter or food.

It wasn't a need it was a want, but then again I need better health, so does that make it closer to a need than a want?

At least I amused the cashier and shoppers behind me when very red-faced, I put the ten pounds back in the cart to push outside. I was positively exhausted. My arms and hands were aching from all the testing back on aisle 42, three blocks east.

These dumbbells are hexagon shaped on the ends. That way they can't roll around when I am driving. If I set them down outside they can't escape down the hill.  If a certain doggy and his tether tangle with them by accident, they won't roll around and hurt him.

I am totally disorganized. But throughout the day, I pick them up, doing more exercises. They feel wonderful (but all of me aches). They don't gurgle or slosh or swish nor do they pee water or sand on my feet.



I figure a year from now, I might see some changes. Already my arms feel longer and heavier, not the effect I desired,  but  I put on an old favorite blouse  before I donated it back to the charity used clothing shop because it had shrunk.

Well, shrinkage was my excuse anyhow. I hated to see it go because it was cheerful bright colors, so I was going to put it on one more time, to remind myself why it had to go.

My motorhome closet is only about 14 inches wide, so I have to be mindful not to clutter it up.

The pretty fun blouse suddenly fit quite nicely. Whoa!

Can't

*Huff puff cough sputter huff puff huff puff grrrrrr huff puff*

write

*Huff puff cough sputter huff puff huff puff grumble huff puff*

anymore...

*Huff puff cough sputter huff puff huff puff geeez huff puff*

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