Bedroom Workout



Photo by montroyaler, Flicker

 Getting back in shape is a key component of my effort to look better and take care of my body. I exercise sporadically. I find it hard to fit regular workouts into my schedule. Yoga is one thing I really enjoy and it kicks my butt. The problem is I am usually working when the classes are scheduled and I haven’t been able to get consistent with it. Each time I can make it to class I feel like a beginner and my body creaks with every pose. I curse under my breath at the woman who can put her face between her knees when she “forward folds”. “She musn’t have to work”, I think bitterly. ”If I didn’t have to work I would work out all the time! I would have a bevy of personal trainers, a personal chef and have an awesome body. I would be so yoga gifted I would be able to wrap my ankles around my ears!” But at this moment I can’t even reach my toes.

I resent my job for the effect it has had on my body and my ability to do something about it. One evening, whilst I sat munching mini candy bars and watching my evening programming, I noticed a channel called Fit TV. Curious, I scrolled through the programming and found some interesting content. There was a thirty minute yoga program which seemed interesting. I wondered if this might be a solution. Perhaps I could record these episodes and play them back at my convenience when a free moment became available? I also found a program for abs, butt and thighs. Who couldn’t use a little lovin’ in those areas? I set up to record the yoga, the abs and butt show, and one called “Shimmy” which teaches the ancient art of belly dancing.

The next morning I excitedly rearranged my bedroom furniture to clear my workout space and laid out my yoga mat. I had my fingers crossed that this program would be a good substitute for the yoga classes I enjoy attending. I pressed play and waited. I heard the right kind of music start up, and three lovely ladies appeared. The narrator’s soothing voice began guiding me through the poses. At first, during the warm up, I felt encouraged, I recognized several of the poses and the style of yoga was the same as the class. This type of yoga moves you fluidly from one pose to another linking into a series of poses that are repeated. In class we hold these poses for a short time and move slowly from one to the next. As the program continued and the pose series started, the calm and gentle narrator’s voice turned into the frenzied pace of an auctioneer. The poses started flying at me with barely a pause between them. I finally had to turn my mat sideways to avoid all the neck craning I was doing trying to see what these lovely ladies, in alternating rainy day or beach scenery, were doing.

Just as I nailed the series, the program broke for a series of infomercials. I realized the reason she was cranking through the poses was because commercial breaks were eating up the time. I fast forwarded through the commercials and continued with my pathetic efforts to keep up and actually get something out of the class. Another commercial break later and we moved to the relaxation portion where you get to lie down with eyes closed as a reward for the hard work you have done. I always look forward to this time at the end of an hour class. I had barely broken a sweat when it was time to rush and lie down on my mat. I hurriedly relaxed thinking at least this would be nice. No sooner had I closed my eyes, when the commando narrator told me to open them back up. Disappointedly, I realized this wasn’t going to work.

I clicked on the abs and butt program, hoping for better results. When the program started, I realized that this was an old taping of an early 90’s aerobic show likely filmed on the beach somewhere in California. There was a sleazy looking instructor with wiry curly hair, tight bike shorts and a loose wife beater tank top. He had matching black socks and sneakers. He stood on a small round exercise mat in the sand, surrounded by three women in super high cut body suits and panty hose. Who the hell works out in panty hose?? Who the hell even wears panty hose?? A techno beat pulsed in the back ground. The class was reminiscent of aerobics classes where you hop, clap and side step your way to a great body. The blinds in my room were open and I hoped desperately that nobody could see me as I did jumping jacks and high knee marching.

I laughed more than once as I windmilled my arms over head to the eight count beat. My mind wandered back to bikini waxing as the lady assistants did their ab work. Their body suit side cuts were so extreme I was sure they only had enough material left for a full front to back thong. I finished the class, also interrupted with commercials. I must admit the ab part of the program was good, but despite the creepy instructor’s encouragement, I didn’t get much out of it. I did a little belly dancing after that which I think Candace Bergen was narrating. It just reminded me of my lack of abdominal tone and I clicked it off.

Fit TV was a big fat waste of time. Too many commercials and not enough work-out. Looks like I have to figure out better time management and get my ass to yoga. As a back-up, I am off to buy a lottery ticket, in hopes that I can quit my job and hire an entourage.