Waist of Mine

I know it; everyone knows it. My waist is too large. I've spent thirty minutes online looking for the best exercises to reduce my waist size. I know from experience that serious stress and not feeling like eating will do it, but I'd rather not go through any more traumatic experiences in my life even if it meant having a 24 inch waist again.

I'm on the slow side of exercise. Though I know what crunches are, I don't know what planks are or oblique crossover crunches might be. I'm sure if I joined the military, I would find out very soon. However, I'm afraid that joining the military isn't an option at 66 years old.

So I've ruled out traumatic events and the military, so I will have to look at more workable means of reducing my waist size. Of course, it is a traumatic event to realize my waist size is more like what my hips used to be when my waist was 24inches.

I guess the only plausible thing to do at this point instead of trying every single ab exercise I manage to print out just now would be to talk to my waist. So here goes. I am going to write a letter to my waist and see what kind of response I get from it.

Dear Waistline,
You have for many years been one of my most admired parts of my body. My clothes fit better, I looked better and I felt better when you were at your best. Now it seems you have gotten lost somewhere between my chest and hips. You are no longer visible, as though you might be hiding from me. Truly, I am not ashamed of you so you need not hide any more. I would love to have you back in my life as nothing has been the same since you left me.

I know it is my fault you have left or taken on a new identity as though you might be wanted by the police. I have neglected you, overfed you, and even accepted your total absence in my body. I know you probably are hurt that I would prefer late night graham crackers or peanuts to your well-being. How could I possibly prefer to take a nap than take you on a long walk around the neighborhood.

I guess with the renewal of any relationship, I first need to ask for forgiveness, and then I need to listen to you. Any good friend is a good listener and I have not been listening to you even when you told me I could be a heart attack casualty. I know I must be so frustrating to you that I'd rather take blood pressure medicine, acid reflux medicine, and complain about my joints bothering me than to listen to you. I heard you when you told me my favorite jeans no longer fit and when you reminded me I needed a larger panty size and none of my belts fit. However, I just bought larger sizes and told myself how good I look, especially for 66 years old. "What can you expect anyway," I'd say. "I'm on Medicare; I receive social security."

Okay, I'll get honest. I've been lying for several years now. I don't like not having you as a part of my body or in camouflage as thought the FBI had given you an all new identity in the Witness Protection Program. I don't even recognize you myself so certainly no one else will either.

I will write to you again, but first I would like to begin to make amends to you by exercising 30 minutes right now. I'm not going to the gym or curves or anywhere. I'm going to do these exercises right now before I do another thing. It will take a long time to renew our acquaintance, but we will begin right now. Rozanne

Curves: the Long Route to Exercise

Today is Friday, just another Friday in July except it is very hot and humid. I had decided I would go to Curves to exercise today as I had taken a long break during camp. I'd come home too tired; then when I finally decided for sure I'd go exercise after camp, the soles on my walking shoes had melted, or the glue melted, and they became detached. I did have a pair of old sneakers I could wear, but somehow each day I was way too tired.

So finally today the 24th of July, I decided to go to Curves, a different location from the last one. According to mapquest it was going to take me ten minutes, door to door. So I start out in the car and decide to fill the tank on the way as I was flat on empty. I get to the nearby intersection to go to Curves, make a left turn, drive about a mile and it suddenly is bumper to bumper traffic. No, I better turn around and go back to the nearest gas station. So this is what I do, but I only put in $10.00 worth since gas is a little higher at this station.

Now for my second start. I'll go the other route, which would not be much further, but possibly less traffic. It turns out there isn't much traffic, but it is further. Finally I arrive at Curves at 2:40. Unfortunately, it is closed from 1:00 until 3:00 though it didn't say that on the website. A few minutes later a girl gets out of her car and unlocks the door. She turns on the music and tells me I can go ahead and begin.

I sign in as their computer is down so my card won't work. I go free because of the Senior Sneakers Plan through AARP. I like the ambiance of this location better than the other one. Also there are all these notes around and displays on the wall, hopefully to inspire the reluctant member. I then begin, and as I go around the circle I notice that they charge $1.00 for bottled water and don't have a water fountain. I still don't like the music they play, but I begin my routine. I am the only one there other than the receptionist who unlocked the door. I do my entire thirty minute routine, wondering if this can possibly help me lose a few pounds. It's a good start I tell myself.

I was determined to get there today, in spite of driving in traffic, stopping for gas, taking two different routes, and finding Curves closed when I got there. I finished up in about thirty minutes, got in my car and decided to return home. I tried the another route home, by the middle school where my son went years ago and where I from time to time substitute teach. As I'm driving the familiar route I notice how it has changed over the years, stop signs at nearly every intersection, new condos, most houses renovated, even the school. I keep trying to make some kind of use of this long trip to and from Curves to exercise for thirty minutes. There is no unusual traffic driving home so it does take me about ten minutes. I listen to PBS and enjoy the cool air conditioning, wishing I'd brought a water bottle with me. I refused to pay $1.00 for water since my Curves membership is otherwise free.

Though nothing particularly memorable comes from the "tour de Curves" today, I did get there and back and accomplish my goal. My weight was the least delightful moment, but I comforted myself that I weighed with my shoes on, and it's the middle of the day. Probably my weight is about the same it was when I first joined Curves before camp and went only three times. I do think it takes more than three times to see any changes. So I have begun again.

Surely exercise isn't this hard for every other woman sixty-six years old! Today I definitely took the long route to exercise including my detour and gas fill-up, plus six weeks off since I first began in June. Maybe congress will pass a bill that requires everyone to exercise daily in order to get health insurance, and it's all stored away on our health profile. Then we are taxed higher if we haven't exercised.