Tag Archive - Gym

Chronically Yours: A Sick Chronicle Of Sorts

January 18, 2012 in Dialogues, Intrasomatic Conspiracy with 1 Comment

Overture:

Two siblings, living on opposite ends of a great pond, catch up over the phone. Ill tidings of assorted aches and pains are exchanged. Morbid moroseness, often misspelled as ‘morosity’, ensues. Based on a true story from the Intrasomatic Conspiracy files. Written for those who enjoy listening to other people’s conversations.

Disclaimer:

Warning! Not for the hypochondria oriented! Please consult your physician or psychoanalyst before reading any further.

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Gil: Hello? Are you there?

Jill: Hey!

Gil: Oh! I almost didn’t see you there. How are you? I’m crappy.

Jill: Crappy or crabby? (laughs)

Gil: No, not crabby. ‘Crappy’, with a capital ‘C’. Sorry, you just caught me at a bad time.

Jill: Sorry to hear that. What’s up?

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Intrasomatic Conspiracy: Part 5 – Not Born To Run

May 29, 2011 in Intrasomatic Conspiracy with 3 Comments

Once you’re over the hill, you begin to pick up speed.
– Charles M. Schulz

I’ve mentioned before that just when I seem to be making headway in terms of achieving some semblance of physical fitness, or even a modicum thereof, my body seems to rebel. I’ve referred in the past to this as an ‘intrasomatic conspiracy‘. Well, it seems that having gotten off on the right foot by going to the gym and losing about 10 pounds, insurrection is afoot; my hip is definitely not hopping.

It started the other morning. I woke up, went into the kitchen, made some coffee, and stared into silence waiting for the first few dregs of java hued droplets to drip … and then it happened. Pop went the ‘crunch’. It’s kind of hard to explain, but my left leg sort of felt like it had attempted to migrate to a no-loitering zone. There was a mild pain, nothing to shout about, but something was definitely off. The coffee began to percolate and off I hobbled to a nook in the wall to brace myself for … well, dislocation I had imagined. So for the last week or so, I’ve felt like an old dog with rickety hips. You know, the ones they usually hook up to wheels before they put them down.

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Weird Scenes Inside The Gym

April 3, 2011 in Intrasomatic Conspiracy with 1 Comment

A while back I posted that I had started going to the gym to address some of my, for lack of a better term, health issues. Psychologically speaking, I decided to go for the very reason that I don’t want to go. You can read more about that decision HERE. But for this post, suffice it to say that sometimes in life you just have to psyche yourself into doing even the most beneficial of things.

OK, so at least 3 days a week I wake up, have a cup of coffee and a healthful breakfast of sliced fruits, nuts and feta cheese. I don my gym clothes and saunter across the street to the gym. No, I don’t drink raw eggs ala’ Rocky, but I do raise my hands in victory after jaywalking my way through traffic. Sure, there’s a crosswalk about 20 feet way, but, you know like, that would be too easy. Besides, statistically more accidents happen at intersections than in the middle of the road.

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Intrasomatic Conspiracy: Part 4 – Going To The Gym (A New Hope)

March 5, 2011 in Dialogues, Intrasomatic Conspiracy with 4 Comments

“He who has health, has hope. And he who has hope, has everything.”
– (Proverbs)

Mark Twain was credited as saying that the only way to keep your health is “to eat what you don’t want, drink what you don’t like, and do what you’d rather not.” So this month I decided to start going to the gym. Now, in light of Mr. Clemens’s logic, it’s easy to see that the very reason why I decided to start working out is precisely … that I don’t want to.

Follow me on this one. Being the radical behaviorist I am, I knew that my normal way of thinking would prevent me from ever getting into a reasonable semblance of good shape. And, the truth is that I do want to exercise, I know it’s important…. and more importantly, I do want to feel good.Yet, I usually lack the combination of willpower, stamina, and zealous aptitude to maintain any sort of a health regimen for more than a week or two.

In the past, I’ve tried biking, as I mentioned in a previous post, but with disastrous results; broken elbows do tend to be off putting. I also tried waking each morning and walking along the nearby waterfront. Yes, I’ve heard Oprah Winfrey’s Dr. Oz claim that if we walk 10,000 steps a day, we’ll end up as fine specimens of ‘cardiological’ fitness. Unfortunately there is no guaranteeing craniological fitness, as well – as my feet would most likely agree. Bastards! They are equal accomplices in my body’s Intrasomatic Conspiracy to deprive me of the achieving of physical fitness and the eating of smaller portions. Ok, in all fairness, I can’t blame them for the latter. And anyway, even without their interference, I’m really my own worst enemy in some respects; I’m clumsy and accident prone. I don’t even walk properly! Here’s why:

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Intrasomatic Conspiracy: Part 3 – The Inflammation Wars

February 27, 2011 in Intrasomatic Conspiracy with 1 Comment

“It’s no longer a question of staying healthy. It’s a question of finding a sickness you like.”
- Jackie Mason

I’ve often said that the problem with life is that life gets in the way. We bob on the surface of its vicious whirlpools that spin us ’round and ’round, and sometimes eventually down, down, down … glub, glub, glub. We start on one thing and soon enough something else takes precedence. That’s the way it’s been lately with my trying to write this post on inflammation. Now to be fair, one of the obstacles to my completing this piece has been some research on the subject I’ve found that has made for fascinating reading and has really got me thinking … which invariably might actually be a dangerous thing.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve been trying to pinpoint the one rogue disorder that has manifested in my body and transmogrified into a bountiful rotting harvest of assorted aches and pains, arthritic concerns, hernias, skin conditions, allergies and gastrointestinal duress. It’s obvious to me that there may be more than one culprit behind this inflammatory infestation … and that perhaps my body as a whole may be working against me in some unholy Intrasomatic Conspiracy.

Now the term inflammation comes from the Latin word ‘inflammare’ which means ‘to set on fire’. Yes, I’m inflamed, in fact, I’m downright incensed! Until recently, my war on inflammation has been mainly cerebral. I’ve tried reading up on what the root cause of my inflammation may be and what I can do about it. But, as always, I end up with ‘super-rific’, albeit conflicting, medical advice that is for the most part, one part supercillious and another part superfluous. Here are a few examples that read more like a “He Said, She Said” marriage counseling exercise:

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