Yes, my butt is big, but that's not the only "Behind" I'm talking about.
I'm older than my chronological age, although that number seems to be catching up to me rather quickly. You see, I learned during my fitness consultation w/ a personal trainer at the gym I joined that I am nearing the age where I am supposed to do push-ups on my knees!!
What?! Really? On my knees? But I've never done them on my knees! Hell, I used to be able to pump out 69+ proper form (military) push-ups in 2 minutes-- that was max standard for men, at the time. Guess what? Elapsed time laughed at me as a barely mustered out 2 proper form push-ups. :-( Maybe I should have used my knees, I might have gotten a higher number.
Of course, my "epic fail" was sit-ups. I have never been good at sit ups. NEVER. Even in the military I had a very difficult time meeting minimum standards, and it always was my weakest physical point. I was able to do crunches, of course, but apparently that's a "no count," because it means I'm not engaging the lower abdominal muscles. Strange that I only started to get a gut when my thyroid shut down, it was leaving me after treatment started, only to come back and stick to me again. Blasted!
I got better at running (military days) with the help of a former NFL'er (so it was said, but I was very, very gullible back then) co-worker who we all called "TL" (his initials), or just "T." He showed me good running form for going distance, which I hadn't learnt during my track & field days in high school because aside from the field events, I did only the sprints-- two totally different running styles! He was assigned to train with me because during a practice PT (Physical Training) I didn't run the 1.5 mile fast enough. He taught me well, I got a lot better, not just for the actual test, but it helped me find a way to work out so much of the energy bound up inside of me.
The time in my life where I was in the best shape EVER was shortly after giving birth to Boy. Soon as the doctor gave me the "go," I was at the nice new gym they built at Naval Air Station, Agnano, Italy, with my new little bundle of Trouble Jr. in his baby carrier. I worked out hard and long, taking breaks as needed to breast feed the Boy (who has always had and insatiable appetite. Hey, I was only. . . um. . twenty... er twenty-one. Soon as I'd gotten home after giving birth to him, I tried what I'd heard about-- I put on my old jeans and zipped them up; snug, but could do it. Still needed to lose a bit to get comfy in them.
And that's exactly what I did. One time, at the gym, I was working on squats when Mr. Italy (body building champion, I don't know how many years in a row) called me over. "Who taught you how to do squats? Your form is perfect." I smiled and said, "My track and field coach." We shook hands and said, "keep up the good form." Made my day. And I got to go back to that coach one time and let him know the compliment he received from across the world!
Anyway, I did my own work out "thing" at the gym, using the free weights, the machines, cardio, and whatever else was available, included that which I loathed-- the treadmill. After we became acquainted, however, I found we weren't enemies, but I wasn't ever really nice about the whole thing. I got fit and in great shape and functional strength. Hubby was having guys compliment him on his wife!! *blush*
I travel back to those years and think of how easy they were. Criminey, I was doing work outs, taking care of an infant, and doing full time college!! The PTSD that would disable me didn't appear until a bit later.
So, there's just a bit of what's Behind me, and I think it can pass for big. After giving birth to Girl here in the States, life was totally different. The way I was treated was different. My access to everything was limited by several factors. I never was able to put on or wear the clothes I'd brought to the hospital with me-- they were too small, but were larger than when I was 4-5 months pregnant with her! And stretchy. *sighs deeply*
Then there's been the roller coaster ride through the bowels of Hell and its many layers. I think I might still have some singed hair and scorched skin from those journeys, but I survived.
What does all this mean?
That I cannot approach working out and being healthy and functionally fit the way I used to, I've changed, my body has changed, more importantly, time has passed and injuries have occurred. Now I have to "be safe" when working out. I've always been pro "form." My grandfather (won body building championship when he was 47-years-old and he had competed against men half his age!) gave me some good advice-- "Form is everything. If you don't have good form, then there isn't much point in doing the exercise; you'll just hurt yourself."
I've grown to appreciate my general curvacious body shape (an hourglass, no matter what size I've been), except when it hurts, or I can't function, or do simple tasks, or the fibromyalgia flares. Good golly, this time around, I'm going to have to figure out how to do all this with hypothyroidism along with all the other problems.
Time will tell, I'm sure. It's a tattletale.
Even if I achieve my fitness and health goals, I'll still have a Big Behind, both physically and otherwise.
~Cedeham~
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