Drunken Walrus Aerobics

I’m a big girl. I always have been. This fact was really driven home for me when I had to be rescued by emergency services, after managing to wedge my fat ass between two boulders while playing at age ten, because I couldn’t crawl my way back out through the opening.

I spent my entire teenage years and early adulthood trapped in a yo-yo cycle of gaining and losing weight, no matter how hard I tried to get it under control. It has gotten even hard since entering my thirties. I’m currently going through assessments to rule out possible underlying health issues that might be responsible for my extreme difficulty reaching a healthier body weight.

One of my upcoming labs is bloodwork to have my cortisol levels checked. I’d say that they’re pretty damn high, seeing as I’m currently on my second stress leave in two years. I’ve been off work since April and still feel pretty stressed the majority of the time. I’ve been taking this time off seriously and have made a lot of great positive changes, but I’m still having difficulties.

A nurse recently suggested that I should try some cardio activities, because that is the most surefire way to burn off excess cortisol and manage stress. My daughter and I have been going for regular walks lately, but the nurse would like me to bump it up a notch. I’m inclined to agree with her because I haven’t been getting as much physical activity since I’ve been off work.

My job is incredibly fast-paced and requires me to make and serve breakfast table side to a dining room full of senior citizens. It’s kept me on my toes for nearly seven years, so I haven’t been living a totally sedentary lifestyle. I rack up the steps every shift, and those old folks are always telling me that I need to stop running. You have to be quick when serving the elderly. They do not like to wait for their meals.

Adamant that our walks just aren’t going to cut it, the nurse recommended that I go buy myself a jump rope and give that a try. My husband looked at me like I was dense and scoffed when I told him I was seriously considering it. This man knows me better than anyone, and I can guarantee that his reaction is valid.

My poor feet — freakishly large for how short I am — are a total mess. I’m talking about Achille’s tendonitis, plantar fasciitis, fallen arches, and sharp pain in my metatarsals. I’ve worked my ass off to support my family while my husband was ill, and it really took a toll on my poor doggies.

I mysteriously injured my foot while were out on one of our recent walks. I didn’t roll my ankle at any point, and aside from nearly being mowed down at a pedestrian crosswalk, our journey was rather uneventful. We made it home unscathed, and I wasn’t experiencing any pain.

Until I stood up after spending an hour sitting on our balcony with my husband. I couldn’t bear any weight on it at all. I asked my husband to check my foot for me. I had somehow managed to bruise my ankle, and it was mildly swollen. He lovingly bandaged it up for me.

So, yeah, no… there’s no way that jumping rope is a good idea. My poor broken feet can’t handle it. I’ll find a better way, thanks. This woman clearly doesn’t know enough about my background, so I really can’t blame her. I’m not at a point where I feel safe putting that much strain on my feet.

Alberta is still on lockdown so all the gyms are closed. It really doesn’t matter though, because it’s not like I can afford to go to one, anyway! I searched Google for low-impact cardio workouts and discovered a YouTube channel called Body Project, which has a wide variety of cardio workouts. They looked like something that I could handle without injuring myself, so I decided to choose a video and give it a shot.

While my husband was napping, I loaded it up onto our television and dove right in. I flailed about our living room like a drunk walrus for half an hour. That’s another reason that I hate exercising in public. I’m incredibly uncoordinated, and I take longer than most people to mimic elaborate body movements.

My brain couldn’t seem to make my limbs work together like a well-oiled machine, and I nearly fell over a few times. I started having flashbacks from that one time I abandoned a step class not long after it started. I couldn’t keep up with it, and kept tripping over my own feet.

And twice the step itself.

I didn’t let my lack of grace deter me this time. I took comfort in the fact that I was in the safety of my home, not surrounded by a group of strangers that would laugh at me if I were to fall flat on my face.

Which I narrowly avoided during that step class.

Luckily no one is currently living in the suite below us, because this building is not at all soundproof. It’s been vacant for months now, which has been a kind of nice. I’ve grown accustomed to the quiet. It’s going to suck when someone finally moves in. I just know I’m going to get a fright when they take their first shower. It’s so loud that it practically rattles the walls.

I’m not kidding… I get startled when my toast pops up.

We once received a notice from our previous landlords, stating that their tenant at the time had complained about the noise of my recumbent cycle made it difficult for him to fall asleep. I used to cycle for over an hour, five evenings a week, after our daughter went down for the night. She was a toddler at the time — think about that for a minute — dude went to bed early!

We live in a small suite. I wasn’t able to find a better place to store it, where it wasn’t in the way. It was also a real bitch to drag it around every time I wanted to use it, so I gave up after a couple of weeks and sold it. I used the money to buy a ticket to see The Backstreet Boys in concert with my friend. I felt defeated, so that was my way of making myself feel better.

Gyms make me feel uneasy. My face always turns beet red with minimal exertion. Even back in high school, when I wasn’t really fat — though I was often made to feel like I was by some of my fellow students. I also have a hard time catching my breath for someone who has never smoked a cigarette in their entire life. I stick out like a sore thumb.

I’d rather not be stared at like some deranged zoo animal while I’m struggling through my workout. Sometimes people in gyms can be mean. Yet another reason that I tend to gravitate towards at-home routines.

I got pregnant with my daughter the last time I joined a gym, after losing a substantial amount of weight. I shit you not; I predicted it was going to happen! The prophecy flashed through my mind every single time I ran on the treadmill. We decided to stop trying after almost a year with no success, and it finally happened when I decide to set foot in a gym.

After my pregnancy was confirmed, I asked my doctor to write me a note so that I could get out of my membership without having to pay the early termination fee. The long bus ride really wasn’t worth it anymore, honestly.

This workout kicked my ass. I felt discouraged, and about halfway through I wasn’t entirely sure that I wasn’t going to puke. Then the instructor unabashedly admitted that the skill level is actually higher than advertised. They labelled the workout as “beginner” to entice people to join in.

It’s hard to be upset at him for pulling a fast one because he’s so damn charismatic and makes for a great hype man.

I had to pause the video shortly after this cheeky deception, because I heard a horn honking, and saw my mother-in-law’s car parked in our driveway.

As I painfully walked up to her after lumbering down our front stairs, she took one look at me and asked what was wrong. I was dripping sweat and wheezing, so I can understand her concern.

I breathlessly reassured her I was merely doing some cardio, and we chatted for a bit before I scuttled back inside to continue with my self-imposed torture.

Our security system captured me proclaiming my impending doom as I walked through the door. I can be so melodramatic sometimes.

I was determined to make it through this video, so I slammed back some water and gave it my best effort. I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to finish without puking.

That donut and canned Starbucks drink I had for breakfast definitely weren’t sitting well.

After finishing the cooldown portion, I sat down to watch an episode of Murder, Mystery and Makeup while I waited for my legs to stop feeling like jelly.

Confident that I wasn’t going to barf, I took a nice cool shower and felt great for the rest of the day.

I think that this is a program that I can manage, and I’m going to do my best to stick with it.

The comments left on the video are positive, full of people raving about their individual results.

Body Project has a wide variety of videos, so if you’re interested in checking them out, I’m sure you can find something that might fit your needs.

The instructor, Daniel Bartlett (not the professional English footballer of the same name- I got really confused when I Googled him), is fantastic. He encourages you to follow at your own pace and to take as many breaks as you need.

Daniel is so damn charming, which makes it really hard to be upset at him for kicking your ass. He’s got a gentle aura about him, and it’s clear that he’s passionate about helping people live their best lives.

I’m trying to convince my daughter to join me next time, but she’s proclaimed that my flailing about it was painful to watch, and she’d rather pass.

The audacity.

Originally published on Medium.