Filed under: Humor, Working Out | Tags: ankle, arthritis, bike, exercise, food court, gym, knee, pain, treadmill, workout
Well the big dog antibiotics are done – so back to the gym I go.
I get there yesterday morning and the ONE bike that works for me has another fanny on it already…
You see, when you are 6’7″, and in the 390 neighborhood, there’s lots of things that ‘should’ fit, that really don’t. Most of the machines at my gym are in this category. So it’s one bike, or a treadmill.
Now I’m about to quote a sign that I read over and over while I eat lunch in the food court – really, if you can’t believe food court signs, what can you believe?
It’s a public service ad from the National Arthritis Foundation – or something like that. I guess I don’t read that part very much. But what I DO read is the fact that every extra pound I have puts an additional 4 pounds of pressure on my knees and ankles. So to reduce arthritis pain I should move more, and lose weight.
So I figure my ankles and knees are absorbing 560 more pounds of pressure than they are designed to handle. Really, when you put it like that (or when I put it like that) it’s pretty remarkable how much the human body can endure isn’t it?
So yesterday when I get on the treadmill and walk almost a mile in 20 minutes, well that’s a fair amount of steps coming down on some ankles and knees that haven’t done anything for 10 days. Do I have to tell you what getting up this morning felt like?
I got to the gym, and my bike was free, so I could do my thing on the bike. My knees and ankles were so sore that I had to do a little tiny 8 month old baby workout (it’s a setting on the bike, I was surprised too) and then I hobbled back down the stairs, out to my car, and on with my day.
Here’s the happy ending.
About 2:00 today, I realized my ankles had stopped hurting! I got up and walked around the office and I felt so good! Strong! My muscles felt like running, my ankles and knees had no pain, my feet felt great too!
That sign in the food court was right! Moving, and continuing to move seems to help my arthritic pain in my joints and feet.
I’m very happy about that – it’s not the first time I’ve realized it, but it’s the first time I’ve seen it work AND read it on a sign in a food court. I thought it was worth remarking over.
Filed under: Humor, Working Out | Tags: fat, grouchy, guy, gym, help, losing, mean, offering, running, support, treadmill, weight, weight loss, workout
So I’m at the gym this morning – I don’t want to be there. No sleep last night until about 1:30–boy I’ll tell you the alarm goes off pretty early when that’s your bed time…
Then I wake up and my ankle and toe are swollen with arthritis, I can hobble but not walk. Lovely. I promised myself I was going to do this no matter what, so I drag myself down to the gym.
I get on the bike, it’s not bad after a while. I listen to RadioLab podcasts, truly inspiring stuff. So I’m digging it.
Then this guy comes in. A pudgy guy. The most obnoxious gum-chewer yet to walk this planet. I have headphones in, but I can still “hear” him chewing he’s so over-the-top about it. He jumps on a treadmill. Walking at first, then fatboy breaks into a run. And he runs, and runs, and runs. It’s kind of mesmerizing, as his front foot is coming down all of his fat is moving up. A visual symphony of opposing forces.
But he can run.
He can run.
It breaks my heart to see it. I would love to be able to just turn on a treadmill and run. I don’t care if I can only do it for 3 minutes at a time, I want to run. But arthritic ankles have me on a bike instead. So I watch him, chewing his gum in time to his running – wishing…
Now it’s time to get off of my bike, one step and I remember my ankle. I hobble up and down the hallway trying to coax my ankle into working again. As I come back down the hall I notice another guy looking at me.
You know how they look at you, begging for eye contact. Sigh. So I look at him…
He’s younger than me I think. About 6 feet 2 inches tall, pear shaped. He’s wearing a baseball cap. As he talks to me he takes it off to wipe his clearly bald head. He starts off by saying “How are you?”.
I do my first double-take. I think maybe I know him because of the familiar tone he used with me. I don’t–never seen him before in my life.
“I’m OK” I say in a way that means I’m not really OK.
“You know”, he says, “I used to be your size, I know how it feels”.
I start laughing inside. I’m an artist for a living, I’ve got a pretty good grasp of sizes, volumes, how things fit together. Quickly in my mind I grab him with a mouse by one corner and do a shift-drag to scale him up to my height. He’s still about my size! But he’s clearly trying to reach out to me…
“You know”, he continues not noticing my size-comparing smirk, “if you ever need any help, I’m here for you”.
Now he gets a full on double-take from me…
He sees it and says “I know it’s a little strange, but I’ve been down your road, let me know if I can help. I’m here all the time, just ask me”.
God love him. I’m sure he’s lost a lot of weight and thought he was doing a good thing. Between no sleep, a work out I didn’t want to do, watching fatboy run like I wish I could, and a body that seems to be bent on keeping me from accomplishing my goals just made it seem surreal to me. “Just come talk to me, I’m here all the time”??? Crazy.
He didn’t tell me his name. I didn’t ask.
P.S. Sorry if this one seems mean. That’s how it is sometimes, you know?
Doug Losing Weight 