Finally!

I finally got a clean bill of health from the urologist one year after my fall. My left kidney is completely healed and I can resume normal activity. It's about time, too.

So I took a good look in the mirror the other day and it was pretty scary. Gravity waits for no man...or woman (that's me). And that insidious beast is winning. That's when I decided it was time to return to the fitness center on a regular schedule.

Until then, I'd been going on a hit-or-miss basis to peddle my buns on the exercise bike. I even fooled myself into thinking that this would fend off the dreaded sagging and bagging brought about by too many years as a desk jockey. WRONG! Pencil pushing and computer tapping don't qualify as exercise.

Last week I got on a machine that is kind of like a treadmill, except that your feet are on pads that ride on rails. I can't remember what it's called. This wondrous contraption of torture also has handle bars that alternate backward and forward to exercise your arms. I thought this might be helpful for my shoulder since it still causes me some pain.

After 30 seconds on this iron maiden, I thought I was going to have a heart attack right there in front of all those young, buff exercise fanatics. So I slowed from a crawl to a snail's pace, dropped my mouth open for more air, and gritted my teeth (hard to do at the same time). I managed to last another 90 seconds before running up the white flag of surrender.

I spent the next 15 minutes on the stationary bike at a remarkable speed of -20 knots. I had to get my heart rate down before I could go change clothes and go back to work. Besides I was afraid that I might pass out.

This past Tuesday I lasted a whopping 3 minutes. Admittedly, a tortoise could have run circles around me, but I did improve. Score one for the Old Gipper and all that hogwash.

Four minutes today on Tin Lizzy before I was forced to cool down on the bike. TA DA! A new record. Of course I had to crawl back to my cubicle. And my coworkers kept asking what all the moaning and groaning was about. Damned if I'd admit that I was melting into a greasy little puddle.

I've promised myself that I will go to the fitness center no less than twice a week, and might even make it to three. That remains to be seen though. Since I go on my lunch 45 minutes and it's right downstairs, I have no excuse. In addition, I will at least equal the time spent in purgatory during my previous session if not increase it.

Now for another short. I've given up on Miss B sending me pictures of my precious granddaughter, so I ordered a web cam. If you know what a computer inexpert I am, you'll know how proud I was when I installed it successfully. Only problem was, after I got it installed, I have no idea how to use it. I did take several pictures of myself, but that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Now I have to wait for number one brat, JC, to come over and show me how to use it.