Sunday, April 22, 2007
I hate to admit I've sunk so low...I slept with Arthur Itis and Ben Gay. I wouldn't recommend these new guys. They did nothing for me, and I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, in a sticky mess. Plus they smell bad. It was all empty promises with them. I had hoped they could make my body feel those forgotten sensations of painless movement.
My rotator cuff injury (caused not by my wicked serve, but by wielding my mouse wickedly), and my bloggers stiff neck led me to consult my on-line doctor. WebMD recommended the ever popular cure: get more exercise.
So I went down to the pool and found that I was much more agile underwater. I did great leg lifts and knee bends with much more enthusiasm than earlier. Then I soaked close to the jets in the hot tub. That seemed to tighten me up rather than loosen me up. I hobbled home, took a handful of advil and got into bed. I can't tell if the cure is worse than the disease at this point. I also wonder why something so good for me (exercise) makes me feel so bad, and just laying around makes me feel so good. And what is the point? Is there a goal here other than long life? A long life of discomfort doesn't tempt me as much as a short life of ease.
So now I'm looking into a class they offer in our gym. Aging with Aerobics. I think these women were 30 when they started class. I can't wait.