Putting it together, bit by bit
I actually rather despise that showtune, as sung by the perennially grating Barbra Streisand. I despise most things about Ms. Streisand, actually. Always have. Her version of "Jingle Bells?" The stuff of sweat-soaked, teeth-grinding nightmares. If that isn't hell, my friends, I don't know what is. But anyway, "Putting It Together" always works its way into my brain when I start making headway on my to-do list or some project I'm working on. I really need to find a new "getting stuff done" song.
Anyway, I'm pleased to announce the arrival of two acquisitions for the homestead: a pair of barstools and a gently used exercise apparatus.
First off, I love my new-old barstools. They're made of a pleasant and fairly versatile lightweight metal, and they have black cushions (which match not only my sofa, but also most of my wardrobe). I got them for a most reasonable price at a local consignment shop, and I adore them. It's nice to sit whilst tooling around on the computer for a change. I may even eat a meal whilst sitting on one in the near future. If you can dream it, readers, you can be it.
The exercise apparatus is none other than the Tony Little Gazelle Edge -- as seen on TV. I bought it a few years ago when I embarked on an ambitious campaign to get in shape. I gave it to my brother shortly thereafter because I quickly moved on to jogging (which I kept up for about a year, thankyouverymuch). After my back and knees began to protest the daily jogging, I starting walking in my neighborhood when the weather cooperated. For a while I also walked on the treadmill in the gym at my apartment complex until the men there became too ... too much. I also tried yoga and Pilates and all of that. I still occasionally do yoga (or Goga, because I have an Ultimate Extreme! Fat Blasting Yoga DVD led by one disturbingly energetic -- and distinctly un-yogalike -- Denise Austin) but it doesn't really give me the workout the Powers that Be say I need.
So, I've decided it's time to act. My new complex doesn't have a gym, and it's too bloody hot for outdoor walking right now. What's a girl to do? Reclaim her Gazelle! I didn't have room for it in my most recent apartment, but now I have plenty of room in the bedroom upstairs. My brother was willing to part with it, and he even helped me lug it up a few flights of stairs (thanks, Brian!). It now occupies the space to the right of my bed.
Today I gave the old Gazelle a spin. Have you seen the infomercials for this thing? Of course you have. And you know how goofy Mr. Little and his team of Fit Models look when they're using it? That's not all smoke and mirrors, folks. It really does look that goofy. It also feels goofy, even though I must say it's pretty fun to use. It makes me feel tall. And goofy. Still, I've decided to be a responsible adult and reaffirm my commitment to physical fitness, coolness be damned.
I logged 40 or so minutes on the Gazelle and tried out this "interval training" thing I've read about for so many years but never bothered to explore. Every five minutes I jumped off the Gazelle and did 20 push-ups. By the end of the 40 minutes I was breathing heavily and perspiring -- signs of a good workout, I figured. Of course, my air conditioner appears to be malfunctioning, so the perspiration might not have been entirely from physical exertion. Still, I'm optimistic. I will be fit! My arms and legs are already hurting! Hooray!
