Recently, my daughter advised me to strengthen my back, arms, legs and ab muscles. She warned me about osteoporosis, the effects of unhealthy eating, the lethargy that comes from low activity and most importantly, the horror of flabby arms. She warned that leggings were not an option for my wardrobe. She told me in no uncertain terms that I was doomed to a remaining lifetime of long-sleeved blouses and capris if I failed to start intensive weight training. Immediately.
Well, Miss Personal Trainer Extraordinaire, I have started my own program of physical endurance and stamina—it’s called Babysitting!
Two weeks ago, I began babysitting my precious little grand-nieces. The oldest is two and a half; the baby is just turning one. I get them for two days a week, Mondays and Tuesdays. They make me laugh, make me melt with their chubby-armed hugs and sloppy kisses, make me play and sing and act like a fool—and make me feel about a hundred years old!!
At the end of Day One, my arms trembled and felt all jello-like from carrying the one year old, a sturdy little thing who hasn’t missed too many meals. My legs screamed from getting up and down off the floor as we played tea party and choo-choo trains. My thighs trembled from bouncing my sweetie-pies, one on each knee, while shouting “Giddyup!” My back and my butt cheeks ached from dead-lifting the girls into my arms to look out the window or to cram them into high chairs and playpens.
I was exhausted after their mommy came to pick them up. My head nodded into my supper plate and it was all I could do to stay upright until bedtime. My husband got annoyed at my constant whining and entreaties.
“Is it bedtime? What time is it? What?!? Only nine? God!”
At the end of Day Two, I asked my husband to make supper and call me when it was ready. Better yet, just let me know when to get off the couch for bedtime. The new exercise routine was going great!
As I look forward to Week Three, I feel revved up and ready to go. I’ve taken a few measures to limber up before this Monday. After that first week, I started a new daily regime. Every day I ran ten kilometers, did twenty-five reps with the barbells loaded to a hundred pounds, added squat jumps (burpees) and cranked out several push ups, with hand claps in between, carrying a loaded knapsack on my back while shouting “Sir–Yes Sir!”
The new exercise program should get me to about ten am.
After that, I’ll just pray for nap time.
Baa, baa for now.