I don’t exercise. I have a million excuses why including problems with shin splints, asthma, time, space, equipment, aversion to sweat, etc. The last time I routinely worked out was between 1987-1991 when I was teaching ballroom dancing for a living. Since then, I’ve been coasting by on my father’s skinny genes to keep me in the single-digit sizes.
I’m not sharing this to brag, so stay with me.
This weekend, even though the weather was shit, I bought some plants for my containers and dragged what seemed like a hundred clay pots and containers from my garage, and set about adding some color to my porch.
One of the projects I took on was my tipping flower pots that I plant wave petunias in. It looks similar to this (here’s the link in case you want to do your own. I can’t vouch for their method of installing the center rod as mine is a couple welded plates, so more permanent and stable).
Back to my point since I’m sure you’re wondering how this project and my lack of physical activity have anything to do with the other.
So there I was, adding my little petunia plants to the pots, working my way up from the bottom. I’m kneeling in front of the pots, transferring the plants and as I move upward, I have to go from sitting on my heels to full-on confessional type kneeling, and then back down again to retrieve the next plant. At the maximum, I only had to do this a dozen or so times. Mini-squats, if you will.
Today? I’m feeling the burn, baby! No. Kidding. I think that has to qualify me as the wussiest woman on earth.
What routine exercising do you do? Is it because you like to or because you feel like you have to? For those of you that like it, you’re weird.