Wednesday, May 04, 2016
Knees and Back
Apparently, with exercise, it's important to mix it up. Don't only work out one way. Repetitive movement injuries can happen, and the gains you see when you first start exercising quickly plateau unless you keep it fresh. I say apparently, because I do not exercise. I mostly just sit all day. I do believe in the value of exercise. It's not that. I've felt good the few times I've broken a sweat since retiring from movement in 2010. I paid careful attention to the article in the New York Times that said folks who exercise live longer than Joel who sits quietly all day listening to podcasts. And yet every time I exercise I feel like I'm pressing out against one of those inflated crunch balls that people sit on now as office chairs. No amount of half measures or sporadic bursts of effort make a difference. I press out, and then spring back doughy and defeated. I keep trying though. I jog sometimes. I still dream of conquering my slobby physique and transforming it. I was fit once. Now I chase my peak level of fitness, which I acheived at 15, 22 years ago, in the tenth grade.
In the tenth grade I weighed 145 pounds. I wrestled that year, which was the only reason I was in shape. Wrestling turned my baby gorilla body into coiled steel. While I was very bad at it, I was much better than most people who choose not to wrestle. It's a point of pride that in the 10th grade, if you were not athletic, I was probably the better wrestler.
I remember wrestling a man from Statesboro Georgia. He was a man. I have no doubt. He might have actually been one of the Dads subbing in from the stands. When I shook his hand before the match it was like shaking a bronze statue of a hand attached to the bronze statute of a grown man. There was no give to it. No pleasing skin feel. Just rock. I suppose we were the same size. I think there are rules about that. But to me, he was enormous. Ox in a singlet.
I almost won that match, actually. In high school wrestling there are rules against picking your opponent up over your head and slamming him down onto the mat so that he lets out an "umph" or an "oh no." The 35 year old I was wrestling was warned several times. The next time he flung me over his head would mean disqualification. As wrestling strategy goes, I was doing quite well. Had I known my advantage, I might have encouraged him to continue. "you're doing great" I would have said.
In the end, I did not win. He stopped assaulting me and just laid me down and pinned me. Afterwards, a teammate said he'd never seen a pin quite like it. Instead of bridging up, pushing my shoulders off the mat with my neck and legs to avoid the pin, I actually lifted my legs off the mat, deadbug style, to create a more flush connection. He said I also ran my hand tenderly over my rival's back until the referee pulled us apart. That would not surprise me. We'd certainly shared something.
So I'll keep jogging I think.
In the tenth grade I weighed 145 pounds. I wrestled that year, which was the only reason I was in shape. Wrestling turned my baby gorilla body into coiled steel. While I was very bad at it, I was much better than most people who choose not to wrestle. It's a point of pride that in the 10th grade, if you were not athletic, I was probably the better wrestler.
I remember wrestling a man from Statesboro Georgia. He was a man. I have no doubt. He might have actually been one of the Dads subbing in from the stands. When I shook his hand before the match it was like shaking a bronze statue of a hand attached to the bronze statute of a grown man. There was no give to it. No pleasing skin feel. Just rock. I suppose we were the same size. I think there are rules about that. But to me, he was enormous. Ox in a singlet.
I almost won that match, actually. In high school wrestling there are rules against picking your opponent up over your head and slamming him down onto the mat so that he lets out an "umph" or an "oh no." The 35 year old I was wrestling was warned several times. The next time he flung me over his head would mean disqualification. As wrestling strategy goes, I was doing quite well. Had I known my advantage, I might have encouraged him to continue. "you're doing great" I would have said.
In the end, I did not win. He stopped assaulting me and just laid me down and pinned me. Afterwards, a teammate said he'd never seen a pin quite like it. Instead of bridging up, pushing my shoulders off the mat with my neck and legs to avoid the pin, I actually lifted my legs off the mat, deadbug style, to create a more flush connection. He said I also ran my hand tenderly over my rival's back until the referee pulled us apart. That would not surprise me. We'd certainly shared something.
So I'll keep jogging I think.
# posted by joel @ 6:48 AM 
