Geekwif
“When anybody asks, 'What are you writing about now?' if I try to reply, the book-in-the-works sounds so idiotic to me that I think, 'Why am I trying to write that puerile junk?' So now I give up; if I could talk about it, I wouldn't have to write it."
- Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet

 

Workout Vocalizations

Wednesday, January 09, 2013


The Geek has been working out in the mornings.  He's doing Tae Bo.  A classic.  I actually bought the DVD for myself several years ago.  I did it a few times – maybe ever so slightly more than a few – but never enough to get really good at it.  And by that I mean, I never once made it through the entire workout without collapsing on the couch like a big sweaty puddle of half-set jello.

But the Geek does.  He makes it through.  He's quite the trooper.  And by that I mean that I admire him for it because I don't even try doing Tae Bo anymore.  The extent of my workouts these days is taking the dog for a walk through the snow.  And then on the icy driveway where I fear for my life – okay, maybe just my tailbone's life – as she drags me behind her.

But back to the Geek and his valiant feats of Tae Bo.

I noticed one morning that he was talking while he worked out.  At first I thought he was talking to me, but when I turned around he was focused on the TV and his workout.  He seemed to be mumbling stuff about the particular move he was doing.  Every now and then I'll walk through the room and hear him talking to himself, correcting his own form or something.

At first I thought it was kind of silly.  Not "Ha ha!  You talk to yourself.  You're such a dork," kind of silly.  I'm not quite that mean.  More like "Isn't he cute," kind of silly. 

But then I remembered back in the day when I used to use that Tae Bo DVD.  And I remembered that I used to talk while I worked out too.  And I remembered just how silly I must have sounded.  And in this case by silly I mean totally-whacked-out-crazy-ridiculous.  As I recall, the things I said were rather less sensible than telling myself to get that leg a little higher or go left instead of right.

No.  I said things like, "Shut up, you stupid man.  My leg IS up.  Yes, actually it is because that is as far as it goes so just SHUT UP and leave me alone!  I HATE you, Billy Blanks!  I really HATE you and would you PLEASE TELL THAT OBNOXIOUS CHICK IN THE FRONT ROW TO STOP SCREAMING!!!!"

Maybe it's a good thing I don't do Tae Bo anymore.  On my current "workouts" I never yell at the instructor.  There isn't one.  The only one with me is the dog and I never tell her I hate her or to shut up.  Nope.  I just scream incoherently in terror while I slide across the ice, hanging on for dear life to the end of her leash.

That does count as a workout.  Doesn't it?

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