Farewell to Norrie

My small home office has been dominated by an enormous treadmill. It's one of those fancy-smancy Nordic Track models. My son joined a gym a few years back and decided he no longer needed it. He took a good look at me and decided I really needed it. So, I inherited the Nordic Track.

I climbed on board and used that hunk of hardware and metal every single day. It kept me on my toes (in more ways than one) as it would speed up, rise to dizzying heights, and then slow down at the most unpredictable intervals. But it was all good. Norrie and I managed to make our relationship work.

Slowly things began to change. I stopped walking on Norrie. I was too tired, too busy, too anything but motivated enough to exercise. Things went from bad to worse. I tried not to look at Norrie whenever I sat at my desk eating chips. I could feel him burning an accusing image in my back. I considered moving Norrie to the basement (out of sight, out of mind), but knew I'd never get him downstairs.

Yesterday, Son asked if he could retrieve the Nordic Track. His new bride plans to put her skinny cute self on a daily treadmill regimen. While I'm not sure about her need for such measures, at least I don't have to feel guilty anymore. Norrie is gone.

You know how things go with break-ups...how a person can agonize over what could have been done differently to make things work. However, I'm handling our break-up fairly well. The only thing that really bothers me now is I no longer have a place to hang my clothes.

The Problem with Observant Pets

"Bogey, I watched a show yesterday where a doctor said keeping active is important. He says if you don't, things will happen to bring bad con-se-kwenses to you. I've seen Cops enough times to know I don't want any bad con-se-kwenses."

"Good idea. And no worries. I've seen Mom practice the same routine a million times. I know exactly how to do it."

 "Okay, then, let's...Bogey, wait a minute. Where are you going?"

"It works like this, my friend. First you study the treadmill. Next you go to the kitchen for a snack. Then you whine and growl around a bit before grabbing a good place to sit on the couch."

"I can only hope the Exercise Police don't find out about this."

My Christmas Workout

Christmas gives me so many things I need. And I'm not talking about gifts.

Think about the obstacle course at the mall. Walking as quickly as you can while dodging multitudes of shoppers is great for the glutes. Bonus points for juggling multiple packages at the same time. Be ready to practice a little meditation for stress relief while waiting in a seemingly endless check out line. Note: the meditation idea is also helpful after you've lost the last parking spot (the one for which you've been patiently waiting while a little old lady takes 5 minutes to back out) when a car load of teenagers cuts in ahead of you.

Back at home, I unload the car. That usually takes at least 3 trips. The packages get stuffed in my closet. I'll wrap them another day, because now it's time to drag countless boxes up from the basement. By my calculation, I climb up and down the stairs at least 147 times. And at 20 pounds per box, my biceps quickly feel the burn.

But it doesn't end there. Now that the tree is put together and decorated, the official Kitty War has begun. Bogey loves to de-decorate the bottom of the tree. That means I get a daily dose of crawling around on the floor to retrieve ornaments that he's strewn across the room. Not to worry, though. I can always throw in a few leg lifts as long as I'm down there anyway.

I ask you, who needs a gym membership when you have Christmas? And thank goodness, too. I've got to find some way to justify the extra 3,000 calories per day I'm consuming.

Decisions and Desires

Brady begs. Indy waits.

Over the weekend, our son stopped by for a visit and brought along his dog, Brady. Brady has been on a pretty strict diet ever since he became a part of our son's household. Or so I thought.

He'd been losing pounds and looking good, but I hadn't seen him in several weeks. Now it appears that Brady has mysteriously managed to recover some of his previously lost pounds. When I commented on his weight, our son was surprised. He hadn't noticed.

Just goes to show that people can be as oblivious about weight gain in their pets as they can about their own bodies.

An article I read recently indicated that pet obesity is becoming a "big" problem in the United States.

Does this sound familiar? Our pets are so much a part of the family that they do what we do...eat and lounge around in front of the television set. So it's not only people who are getting heavier these days.

Why?

We eat too much.

"Here, Rover. A treat for you and a treat for me. Good stuff, huh, boy? Now let's see what's on Animal Planet."

We don't exercise.

"Let's stay in. It's too (insert word: hot, rainy, cold, windy, etc.) to go outside."

An all too familiar pattern with predictable results.

After we further discussed Brady's weight, our son acknowledged that he had been handing out a lot of "people food" treats from the table. (And Brady begs like a champ in the most persistent way to prove it.) The previous long walks had also decreased.

There you go. It's the same recipe that gleefully glues additional pounds on me.

A solution?

Wouldn't it be great if each of us put down the remote or shut off the computer or closed that book for just 30 minutes each day? And in that 30 minutes Rover and his person could go for a long, long walk outside. (Added bonus: 30 minutes of no snacking.)

We're on a roll now!

Bottom line: you can sit or move. Eat when hungry or eat all the time. Pick healthy foods or junk. It's really all about choices.

And because they do what we do, our pets will travel the same path right along with us.

No matter which direction we choose.

Oh, Those Squats!

For me, exercise is a boring chore...almost, but not quite, as bad as housework. However, I just might be more willing to do my squats if I had an exercise buddy like this one. Check it out!