Category: fitness

It’s the altitude

Always blame it on the altitude, I advised.

Love Flagstaff!!

We drove north, into the pines of northern Arizona, leaving behind the relentless heat of central Arizona.

Mike and I were able to do some easy walking with friends in Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon as well as Flagstaff. Here is a test: if you think you are fit, take a walk at an elevation 6000 feet higher.

Here is a trick: when you are out of breath, claim that you are stopping for a photo op. And blame any panting on the altitude.

I do not claim to be in great shape; read my blogs. But I can walk a mile or two easily and do some hiking with trekking poles and occasional help from my husband.

So it is always a surprise when I become breathless during a walk downtown Flagstaff.

My friends, unaccustomed to the altitude change, were breathing heavily.

Always blame it on the altitude, I advised. It is so much better than, “I am really out of shape!”

Betty picked up on it right away.

Over the next few days, we never did become acclimated to the altitude.


Okay, maybe I am out of shape.

Relief!

We desert rats are emerging from our cocoons just as Midwesterners crawl out in the spring after a harsh winter.

We never complain about rain in the desert.

The heat broke, sending us cool air and rain. It is energizing.

The 10 days I spent in northern Arizona prior to this confirmed that weather can motivate and suppress. Getting outdoors surrounded by the tall pines and bright flowers of the hillsides sparked an enthusiasm I had been missing.

Now at home, with the temperatures falling, I once again am inspired to live life actively. We desert rats are emerging from our cocoons just as Midwesterners crawl out in the spring after a harsh winter. Today I will trim my roses, take a walk, clean out a cabinet in the study.

Life is good.

Climbing stairs and other necessaries

I exercise carefully to avoid further damage while maintaining if not increasing the strength I have. I am haunted by the old commercial of the elderly woman crying, “Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” That image is too real.

Nothing says “disabled” like difficulty getting off the toilet.

It’s always something

First my right hip required a total replacement. Astonished that it took almost two years to heal, I was recovering strength when a torn meniscus in my left knee demanded partial knee replacement. This recovery took just over a year, hampered in part by high temperatures which kept me indoors and Covid which kept me away from the gym.

I returned to fitness classes twice a week earlier this summer. Now both knees exhibit arthritic pain equally, but strength is returning.

I needed a gift bag from the stash stored upstairs. It is no secret that I avoid venturing into the boys’ space. The teenage imprint is obvious. Now and then it is necessary to delve into the cavern.

I considered buying one

I eyed the stairwell which rises straight up, daunting me for the past three years. Clinging to the handrail, I concentrated on the strength in my thighs and started to ascend.

Before I knew it, I was halfway up the flight, finishing with ease.

Descending was challenging, but I returned to the kitchen, gift bag in hand, with no obvious damage to my body.

Oh glorious day

Having experienced physical weakness, mundane movements are celebrated when completed easily: stepping over the over-tall barrier into the shower, climbing into and out of the car, putting on pants, feeling balance while walking, and of course, rising from the toilet.

I exercise carefully to avoid further damage while maintaining if not increasing the strength I have. I am haunted by the old commercial of the elderly woman crying, “Help. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” That image is too real.

My ceiling

For now, I will avoid classes that run over 60 minutes. Or plan my escape ahead of time.

Like watching paint dry.

Helping out a friend

As an act of charity and concerned that she would feel lonely without us, my friend Nancy and I accompanied our friend Noreen to a workout class this morning. There was no need: half of our former yoga class was in attendance.

Assured that Noreen was not alone and overwhelmed by the equipment we were expected to collect, Nancy suggested we bail before the class started. Good Midwesterners that we are, we stayed to fulfill our commitment.

We settled into the back of the gym as Noreen, ever the teacher, distanced herself from us, scrambling toward the front. We were stuck.

Okay, it was good exercise

I admit we had a workout. But after an hour of struggling to follow disjointed instructions, I hit my mental ceiling. Only the piles of equipment, evidence as to our presence, kept us from slinking out. Good Midwesterners that we are, we remained to clean up the mess.

I spent the final 15 minutes relaxing and stretching while contemplating the coffee I would order when released.

I have my limits

During the 80s, after many sessions, I walked out of an aerobics class, unable to focus on the exercises. The repetitive jumping and writhing seemed senseless, benefiting the instructor more than the students.

My mind’s inability to attend any activity longer than an hour seems to get more pronounced with age. Normally I break monotony with a walk outside or a spontaneous outing, both options limited by summer heat and Covid restrictions.

For now, I will avoid classes that run over 60 minutes. Or plan my escape ahead of time.

Good Midwesterner that I am, I wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone.

Trekking poles

I attribute the success to a healing body (thank you, God), exercise (thank you, Kelly), and trekking poles.

Love my poles!

Get me out of here!

The unrelenting heat and lack of trees sent us to Flagstaff for the day. Much needed rain had quenched Nature’s thirst resulting in lush pines, bright yellow flowers, and green brush covering the hills. The drive alone was rewarding.

Who doesn’t like a farmer’s market?

We timed the drive to enjoy Flagstaff’s Sunday market. Southwest markets often feature more crafts and services than fresh food which is often shipped in. The outdoor Farmer’s Market in Flagstaff features much local produce. My only regret was that I had no way to get it home.  

Local goat cheese, fresh bread, newly picked fruit, and the last of the tomatoes made a perfect picnic lunch. Then we drove to Snowbowl.

The happy wanderers

With Mike planning to hike the Arizona Trail, we set off to connect with it via one of the paths on the mountain. It was a beautiful day, with clear skies, comfortable temperatures, and comfortable breezes.

The trekking poles I had purchased a few years ago did their job, as I could traverse the terrain with no difficulties. It felt good to move!!

Victory!

The poles are more useful for balance than for strength. A hip replacement on my right and a partial knee replacement on my left have left me with unequal strength. Coupled with bifocals and delayed attention of aging, it is easy to lose my balance.

Graded easy, the trail is almost three miles round trip. My poles kept me upright and allowed me to conquer the short distance that was rocky and steep and permitted me to enjoy the views on the level plane. I joyfully completed a hike that would have been impossible a year ago.

I attribute the success to a healing body (thank you, God), exercise (thank you, Kelly), and trekking poles.

Stuck

I decided to discontinue this blog which was to track my upward progression to better fitness. Instead it resembles an electrocardiogram’s peaks and waves.

My fitness progress

Stuck in the mud

The tires are mired in the mud as Jeremy Clarkson moves his vehicle into the new farm shop parking lot. Although Mike and I are laughing aloud, I identify with the predicament. My fitness plan feels stuck.  

Thanks to good friends and a wonderful fitness instructor, I am motivated to attend a workout class twice a week, preceded by coffee.

Occasionally, at home I run circles in the pool or swim short laps. Yesterday I participated as well as I could in

Yoga with Adriene, and last week I walked with Leslie Sansone.

I really want to get outside!

What I want to do is get outside and walk among the trees. But it is hot! And in the desert.

This is depressing

A big deterrent is mood. The surgence of the Delta variation of Covid even among the vaccinated has sent us into retreat from crowds. Seventeen months of sheltering is depressing, even for an introvert.

I decided to discontinue this blog which was to track my upward progression to better fitness. Instead it resembles an electrocardiogram’s peaks and waves.

A healthy heart does not flatline

Today, though, I celebrate the ability to once again walk up and down stairs, albeit with a handrail. So I will continue blogging, for my own assurance that I am doing the best that I can under the conditions. Afterall, a straight line on a cardiogram is not a good sign.

Jumpstart to the day

ach time I do even the smallest activity, though, I marvel at the benefits, and file the experience in my memory to motivate me tomorrow. That and meeting friends for coffee may be enough to get me going.

As lovely as central Phoenix

A walk in the park

After a rather sedate weekend, I got myself out of the house this morning for a 1.5 mile walk in the central Phoenix neighborhood where I am lying low at my nephew’s guest house. I call it my she-shed.

The temperature was tolerable for a change, and the humidity did not tax me until the 1.2 mile mark. After cooling down upon my return, I joined Adriene for a few minutes of gentle yoga. The sweat oiling the floor prompted me to cut the session short.

Ready to roll

A good night’s sleep and light morning exercise set the tone for the day. I completed a couple of tedious tasks which I had been avoiding and am now making plans for the rest of the day.

Natural medicine

Physical activity is truly natural medicine, strengthening the body and freeing the mind. The year of COVID with gyms closed and isolation from our support groups forced us to find new ways to move. Now, the summer weather in the southwest makes a casual walk ill-advised. Exercise requires intention and planning.  

Tomorrow?

Each time I do even the smallest activity, though, I marvel at the benefits, and file the experience in my memory to motivate me tomorrow. That and meeting friends for coffee may be enough to get me going.

Can I blame it on Noreen?

A few sessions of exercise and yoga have left me feeling stronger and with less pain, assuring me of the benefits of physical exercise. But following the months of pandemic restrictions, my friends and I are once again enjoying companionship, laughing and talking maskless, sharing hugs and tears. On this day, soul exercise was needed.

Soul food

Anticipating several hours on a plane, I proposed a double session of exercise for the day preceding. A work out class followed by yoga would be the perfect antidote to a day of sitting.

“Oh, by the way, Nancy, my car is being detailed. Can you pick me up at the car wash? Then we can grab a cup of coffee prior to going to the gym.”

Nancy needed no persuasion. We invited Noreen whose need for companionship dissolved her reluctance to commit to two hours at the gym.

Coffee and talk filled the first hour. When it became apparent that we would not make the exercise class, more coffee was ordered. Did we intend to ignore the time? Yoga faded off the agenda.

We always bring our own fun to the classes so the discomfort of working out does not dissuade us. But the stress of 2020 followed by personal loss in 2021 demands self-consolation. On this particular day, laughter was needed to bridge unbearable grief. Physical exercise would have to wait.

Let’s tell people we met to go to the gym; no one needs to know that we never got there, I proposed.

Alas, Noreen confessed immediately to her daughter who obtained just short of a legal contract guaranteeing her presence in class the following day. It is good to have accountability.

A few sessions of exercise and yoga have left me feeling stronger and with less pain, assuring me of the benefits of physical exercise. But following the months of pandemic restrictions, my friends and I are once again enjoying companionship, laughing and talking maskless, sharing hugs and tears. On this day, soul exercise was needed.

Yes, I blame it on Noreen. Thank you.  

To the Lake!

It is encouraging that a minimum amount of exertion awards significant results. Like a carrot on a stick, the strength in my legs emboldens me to return to the gym.

Lake Pleasant, Peoria, AZ

A Tradition Everyone Enjoys

The tradition sprouted several years ago on Mother’s Day when we surprised ED by renting a pontoon boat on Lake Pleasant for the afternoon. That even the sulky teens enjoyed the adventure warranted a repeat.

Although we haven’t always gone out on Mother’s Day, our annual pontoon outing remains a favorite. Today, we head out once more.

Getting Fit

During the past two weeks fitness instructor Kelly encouraged me through three sessions of Butts and Guts, surreptitiously referred to as Blood and Guts. An additional session of yoga and a few walks outdoors has developed enough strength to garner my confidence to enjoy time in the water.

The challenge will be returning to the boat via a flimsy ladder. Worst case: the family drags me back to the dock on an inner tube providing material for a long-running legend.

I would like to blame the pandemic for my lack of fitness. Honestly, two orthopedic surgeries set me back more than COVID. The recovery time was much longer (two years) than expected. The development of arthritis in joints discourages exercise as I spend mental and physical energy adapting movement to accommodate but not aggravate the inflammation.

Feeling Strong

It is encouraging that a minimum amount of exertion awards significant results. Like a carrot on a stick, the strength in my legs emboldens me to return to the gym.

Today I will take the elevator down to the pier. I will use a floating device in the water in anticipation of unexpected muscle cramps. I will gladly suffer bruises as my family assists me into the boat.

And every movement will bring me joy and awe.

Almost-Post COVID exercise class

Exercising or being among friends. Each is restorative in its own way. Most invigorating, though, is exercising with friends.

There is nothing so wonderful as yoga on the beach.

I remember that music

The familiar music provoked an instinctual response to Kelly’s workout instructions held now at Foothills Recreation Center in Glendale, AZ. Following a year of relative inactivity, my figure resembles a blob, my muscles gelatin, my energy sloth.

COVID exacted a price.

Sore in a good way

How good it feels to move again. Two days after the workout, I was uncomfortably and reassuringly sore in all the right places. My muscles could still work. My repaired joints appear to be improving.

Understandably, my perfect yoga guide Noreen has opted to take time off, obliging me to find a new teacher and class. Thankfully she had implanted her voice in my brain, coaching me as I curl my limbs into awkward but healing poses. When the time comes that my body is placed in a coffin, it will reflexively relax into shavasana.

Ahhhh

The world is opening up. The CDC’s confusing but positive guidelines assure me I can reenter much of society among a few friends. In class, we appear to be spaced apart well enough to avoid spreading contamination beyond our panting breath.

Exercising or being among friends. Each is restorative in its own way. Most invigorating, though, is exercising with friends.

It’s good to be back.