One thing the Seinfeld show got right – my body is my own personal amusement park.
I don’t like pills and I absolutely dread needles. I get high on exercise. Not just sex. I love lifting weights, jumping on a trampoline, swimming, doing yoga. Bodies make fun-sensation drugs when you whirl around on rides at a park, or when you work out. In truth, I am an exercise junkie.
I was on both the gymnastics team and swim team in high school. I wasn’t the best, but you don’t need to be the best to get high. I suppose winning gives you an extra chemical boost – an adrenaline rush. I’ve won stuff – the adrenaline rush is followed by a crash. I’ll take an exercise high any day - that’s a high that lasts. And if it starts to wane, I know exactly what to do to get my fix again. I don’t have to wait for a contest, and competitors.
My living room is my gym. I have exercise videos that last from 15 to 20 minutes: Pilates. Yoga, Toning. Aerobics. Svaroopa. Tamilee Webb, Kathy Smith, Donna Richardson, Rodney Yee, Gin Miller. Christa Rypins.
I tried to explain this to my Physical Therapist. I may have arthritis in my hips, but I still ride my bike to therapy and there’s nothing wrong with my biceps. But all she gives me are baby exercises and she doesn’t want me lifting weights or doing lunges.
So, hah! Everything can be modified. If she says, “lift your arm.” I can stretch my arm up. If she says do 10 reps. I can do 30.
I wouldn’t call it recovery from arthritis if all I could do were baby exercises. That's no way to run an amusement park.