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    Sunday, December 6, 2009

    Indoor Competitive Walking for Seniors and Dumpy Stay-at-Home Moms

    This week I started a weight loss clinic at my doctor’s office. Because I dearly love the staff, I am not going to make snarky comments about skinny people trying to empathize with fat people. After all, why alienate the few who don’t leave a flaming pile of blame at your door, ring the bell, and hide in the bushes?

    So now I’m following the groundbreaking program of “Eat less, Exercise more.”

    I like to walk in the mornings, but it’s been a bit nippy here in Colorado. So the other day I went to the indoor track at the Y. This turned out to be more than a little humbling. I followed a trim sixty-five-year-old up the stairs to the elevated track. Grandma then left me in the dust with only a glimpse of her toned fanny.

    The only other woman my age was jogging—and clearly had developed the habit throughout all her adult years.

    I stuck to the inside track, the slow track, the arthritic track, the recovering from heart surgery track—you get the idea. I got excited when I caught up to one of the seniors. I knew the protocol for passing. After all, Mrs. Career Jogger had lapped me plenty of times.

    I sped up and moved to the right—the fast track!—to pass the gray-haired trotter in front of me. But he must have sped up too. Ah, he’s like one of those drivers who won’t go the sped limit but won’t let you pass. I sped up a little more. The old geezer stepped on the gas!

    So I’m huffing and puffing in the fast lane, eyeing Grandpa at my left, with Jogger Lady bearing down on me. Who knew you could have road rage on a walking track? Like any respectable, aggressive driver, I responded to the situation by cranking my music up. This backfired as I was wearing headphones and simply blasted my own eardrums with Matchbox 20.

    Finally, I managed to pass Gramps, and swerve back into the slow lane in time for Speedy to zoom by. But by then, I was too tired to keep up the pace. My victory was short-lived. Seventy-year-old Recovering Heart Patient passed me with a gleam in his eye.

    All in all, it turned out to be a good workout. I plan to go back for a rematch this week. And this time, the gloves are off. I’m bringing a bike horn.

    9 comments:

    Andrea said...

    The 70 yr old heart patient would probably lapped me several times.
    LOL.
    BLessings, andrea

    Beth K. Vogt said...
    This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
    Linda B said...

    That's why I use the recumbent bike for my exercise. It's a lot less obvious how pathetic I am in comparison to all the buff college students who insist on sharing the university gym with me.

    Candee Fick said...

    Thanks for the chuckle this morning - and the reminder that treadmills aren't supposed to need dusting. Maybe I need to position a cardboard Gramps beside the treadmill. But should he be ahead so I have to work to catch up? Or behind about to step on my heels?

    Donita K. Paul said...

    Candee, I'd need the cardboard gramps behind me with arms extended forward, pushing my back.

    Jennifer ♥ said...

    Too funny - I love your descriptions! Maybe you should try walking outside in the knee deep snow - it would be great resistance training :)

    Jenny B. Jones said...

    That was awesome. Loved the flaming bag of...
    Hang in there with the exercising. You can do it! If it makes you feel any better, my dr just put me on a "no sugar, no bread, no wheat, no yeast, no dairy, no fruit, no fun" eating regiment for 30 days. Um, CHRISTMAS happens during this 30 days. I have 3 events just in the next week. Nice. It will be BYOC--bring your own celery.

    Tiffany said...

    Thanks for the laugh! Glad to know crazy "drivers" aren't limited to the roadways!

    Amy Jane (Untangling Tales) said...

    walked at our local indoor track until the management said I couldn't do it without my kids walking beside me (I set them up on the glass-side of the tiny track and passed them every 1.5 minutes).

    ANYWAY

    My parents are now letting me borrow their treadmill for a bit longer and I've been able to watch movies without guilt for the first time since... I can't remember when.

    Walking is the best exercise.
    Best I've found, anyway.

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