I would love to say that I’m all about fitness. But maybe love is too strong a word here.
Perhaps I should say that I would sometimes, but not very often, partially and half–heartedly like to say that I’m all about fitness.
I am the type of woman who buys a Yoga video for beginners and waits three months to open the plastic around the case. Then, I wait another two months to open the actual case. Then, another month goes by before I feel so guilty about spending money on another workout video that I’m not using that I actually pop it into the player and watch the opening credits.
It isn’t that I don’t want to look like the woman on the cover, who sports a tiny leotard, and is bent into an unnatural shape. I would love to look like her – minus the pretzel maneuver. I am certain I would benefit if I learned how to feel at one with my body and my breathing.
It’s just that I would really rather be locked in my bathroom, eating the king-sized Snickers I don’t intend to share with the children.
I believe that is why those funky shoes with the rocker bottoms intrigued me so much.
My mom purchased a pair. I saw them on the street and at Wal-Mart. I saw them from a distance as I waited in line for a triple-mocha-latte with whipped cream and sprinkles, and a side order of double hot fudge sundae ice cream, with nuts.
These shoes popped up in an office where I used to work.
And, being a journalistic, inquisitive, thirsting-for-knowledge type of gal, I had to do a bit of research.
A real-live fitness buff could purchase a pair of these sneakers for only $99.90. (Do you know how many Rolos I can buy with $99.90?!?!)
The product description went something like this: “The rocker bottom technology propels the foot forward, which tones your muscles as you work to balance your weight.”
And there it is. That tiny four-letter word that sends me rocketing toward the Mars stash at the bottom of my unmentionables drawer: work.
Luckily, I am not the type of person who is easily sucked in by clever marketing tools. In fact, I came up with my very own fitness regime: Say smart-alecky remarks to people who have paid $99.90 for shoes.
For example, my former co-worker, Jennifer, who purchased little piece of rocker bottom heaven, said, “I bought these darn shoes and I just don’t think they are working. I haven’t lost a bit of weight.”
And then my reply: “Well, Jennifer, you might want to try taking the shoes off your feet and putting them in your mouth. That way, you can’t fit any food in there.”
This ingenious reply propelled my foot forward and into my mouth, thus encouraging me to work leg muscles and abs in order to extract said foot. Not only did I perform a little work there, I further toned my legs as I balanced my weight and ran down the hall to escape the reaction to my remark.
The real beauty of this is that I didn’t even have to buy the shoes in order to receive some sort of benefit.
Hey! That deserves a round of Three Musketeers. The chocolate’s on me.
See, I could get into this fitness thing. Wonder what smart-alecky remark I can make about those shaky arm weight thingies …?