I joined the YMCA because I believed what the Village People said, that "they can help you today", and something about not getting down and getting yourself off the ground and I'm sure they mentioned fun in there somewhere.
.
I had a fitness assessment this morning. I didn't want an assessment because that sounds too much like test which might mean criticism, but in order to get the nice boy to show me the exercises that will give me Michelle Obama arms, I had to be assessed. I was thinking, great, I walk everyday, oh and I play the Wii. I thought maybe they would have me hit some baseballs or tennis balls or bowl a few lanes and then tell me my fitness age. I was prepared. I thought.
The very nice lady told me what a beautiful figure I had and then stuck me on a bike and told me to ride. She measured something called my VO2. I don't really know what that is but she explained it is basically measuring stamina. My number was so low it was literally not even on the chart. I must have started looking stunned because she next told me it is not really stamina, but a measure of how efficient my body is at getting oxygen to the cells. I thought for a few seconds and looked at her and said "So you're basically saying that I'm inefficient down to a cellular level." She laughed. I must have looked even worse because she next told me that it's basically 70% genetics. Now we're talking.
I know I'm inefficient. I certainly didn't need to ride her bike to give me that news flash. I have boxes of unfinished projects and a house that is never all clean at one time. I leave the house each morning and without fail have to go back inside at least once to get something I forgot. I don't make one trip to the grocery store a day but three or four because I forgot some key ingredient. Inefficiency is my middle name. I contemplated asking for my $320 back and then something occurred to me. The glorious part about the assessment is, I now know my inefficiency is not my fault. It's my cellular make up. And if that wasn't enough to make my day, it's genetic! Something else that is all my parents fault. I left her office happy to know I now have the perfect excuse. I am inefficient but it's not my fault and because it's genetic, there's nothing I can do about it! I'll spend the day blaming mom and dad and then start apologizing to my girls.
The very nice lady told me what a beautiful figure I had and then stuck me on a bike and told me to ride. She measured something called my VO2. I don't really know what that is but she explained it is basically measuring stamina. My number was so low it was literally not even on the chart. I must have started looking stunned because she next told me it is not really stamina, but a measure of how efficient my body is at getting oxygen to the cells. I thought for a few seconds and looked at her and said "So you're basically saying that I'm inefficient down to a cellular level." She laughed. I must have looked even worse because she next told me that it's basically 70% genetics. Now we're talking.
I know I'm inefficient. I certainly didn't need to ride her bike to give me that news flash. I have boxes of unfinished projects and a house that is never all clean at one time. I leave the house each morning and without fail have to go back inside at least once to get something I forgot. I don't make one trip to the grocery store a day but three or four because I forgot some key ingredient. Inefficiency is my middle name. I contemplated asking for my $320 back and then something occurred to me. The glorious part about the assessment is, I now know my inefficiency is not my fault. It's my cellular make up. And if that wasn't enough to make my day, it's genetic! Something else that is all my parents fault. I left her office happy to know I now have the perfect excuse. I am inefficient but it's not my fault and because it's genetic, there's nothing I can do about it! I'll spend the day blaming mom and dad and then start apologizing to my girls.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment