Next week is my bi-annual appointment with my internist and
it’s been the driving force in making me go to the YMCA to help me lose the
weight I gained recently. When I saw him last fall I was up five pounds since
spring, then I added another four over the holidays and I knew he wouldn’t
ignore that kind of weight gain two appointments in a row. Well, guess what! He’ll
never know. I’m back to the same weight I was a year ago. He might even praise
me for the five (really nine) pound loss and I will light up like a jar of
lightning bugs on a warm summer night. It’s not that he’s a tyrant of a doctor,
quite the opposite. He’s so nice that I hated the idea of disappointing him
with a broken promise. I have a ton more to lose so I’ll try to ride the Diet
& Exercise train for as long as I can. Picture me with “Iowa Blackie,” the
wandering hobo poet---him with his paper and pens and me with a set of
dumbbells.
Going to the gym is fertile ground for people watching and maybe that will keep me going, like Blackie writing about the people he met as he rode the rails across the country. For example, I haven’t seen people jumping ropes since grade school but they're a common sight at the Y. The ropes they use aren’t like the clothes lines we used back in the good old days. They come in different materials: plastic beaded, "licorice" whips, clothe, vinyl cords, cables, leather and with lights embedded---$5.00 to $80.00. You pick a rope by the surface where you’re going to jump and the speed you want to do it at. Lighted ropes are for night but they would be good in public places. Those wire-thin cable jump ropes are so hard to see when in action that I didn’t even realize that’s what people were doing the first few times I saw them used at the gym. I thought they were just jumping up and down. Online there are plenty of directions for how to jump rope and for picking the right length rope. (With one foot standing on it, you lift the handles and they shouldn’t go past your armpits.) How did we ever manage to learn how to jump rope before the internet?
Going to the gym is fertile ground for people watching and maybe that will keep me going, like Blackie writing about the people he met as he rode the rails across the country. For example, I haven’t seen people jumping ropes since grade school but they're a common sight at the Y. The ropes they use aren’t like the clothes lines we used back in the good old days. They come in different materials: plastic beaded, "licorice" whips, clothe, vinyl cords, cables, leather and with lights embedded---$5.00 to $80.00. You pick a rope by the surface where you’re going to jump and the speed you want to do it at. Lighted ropes are for night but they would be good in public places. Those wire-thin cable jump ropes are so hard to see when in action that I didn’t even realize that’s what people were doing the first few times I saw them used at the gym. I thought they were just jumping up and down. Online there are plenty of directions for how to jump rope and for picking the right length rope. (With one foot standing on it, you lift the handles and they shouldn’t go past your armpits.) How did we ever manage to learn how to jump rope before the internet?
A good jump rope workout, according to what I’ve read, is ten
minutes which burns 135 calories. How depressing is that? A scoop of vanilla ice
cream is 137 calories. You’d have to jump two hours for a banana split. Still,
I wanted to try. How hard can it be?
I thought, remembering my days on the playground where we 'Double Dutch' jumped. (Two girls twirled two
ropes while two other girls jumped in unison.) Fast forward sixty-five years to this week when I tried jumping rope again and I
couldn’t propel myself up in the air more than a half inch off the floor! I was
glad no one was around to see my feeble attempts. And I felt ashamed of myself
for laughing in my head at Boxer Boy, a kid in his early twenties at the gym who wears a baggy
hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head and so close around his face that no one could ever pick him out in a lineup. He couldn’t keep the rope going more
than six-seven times before missing the rhythm. He’d alternate his jumping attempts
with shadow boxing using five pound dumbbells and he must have been boxing with
a pretend comic book character because his verbal sound effects echoed around
the strength training room, “Wham!” “Bam!” “Pow!”
This week my book club met and we discussed Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See. With 531
pages, at first I dreaded reading it but it was easily polished off in a week
because it was so good I couldn’t put it down. It was set during WWII when the Nazis
occupy France. The two main characters were: 1) A blind French girl whose
family took part in the Resistance by broadcasting coded messages to the Allies,
and 2) a German boy who had a talent for working with the new-back-then radio technology
and he was assigned to a unit that tracked down where the radio transmissions
were coming from so they could be destroyed. Half the group didn’t finish the book but we
still had an interesting discussion void any of the disagreements we’ve had
with a few other books. And for the bonus round, I got a chocolate rabbit from the facilitator of the book club for
having an April birthday. Even when I try to avoid them, temptations keep finding me!
I came home from book club to find a bouquet of flowers on my porch from my oldest niece. She is so thoughtful and loving, not just to me but to everyone. The arrangement has miniature pussy willows in it and I’m hoping I can root them to plant outside. We had them in our yard and at our cottage when I was growing up and if there is such a thing as comfort flowers (like comfort foods) pussy willows, lily of the valley and lilacs would be mine. All and all, the week ended so much better than it started and it’s not over yet. Friday I’m having lunch with friends I’ve known for nearly fifty years. They’re in town from out of state and I always feel honored when I’m included on their list of people to see while they’re here. ©
I came home from book club to find a bouquet of flowers on my porch from my oldest niece. She is so thoughtful and loving, not just to me but to everyone. The arrangement has miniature pussy willows in it and I’m hoping I can root them to plant outside. We had them in our yard and at our cottage when I was growing up and if there is such a thing as comfort flowers (like comfort foods) pussy willows, lily of the valley and lilacs would be mine. All and all, the week ended so much better than it started and it’s not over yet. Friday I’m having lunch with friends I’ve known for nearly fifty years. They’re in town from out of state and I always feel honored when I’m included on their list of people to see while they’re here. ©
World Champions with Jump Ropes
