‘Sporture’ (rhymes with ‘torture’)

Exercise Clipart Cartoon

I used to be a ballet dancer. I used to be a karateka. I used to swim for my school (okay so I once swam breaststroke at Newlands Swimming Pool in an inter-schools competition. I needed help getting out of the pool because I was so tired, but still…) I captained the first netball team and once won a trophy for athletics (most promising junior athlete – not that much came of that promise mind you, despite my built-for-speed thighs!). I used to belong to a gym.

But that was all back in the eighties! I last did any proper exercise in 1992 in my antenatal classes when I was preparing to ‘blow the baby out’ (Thank God I never had to do that – mercifully I had five caesareans, but that is another story entirely, fraught with big-headed, lazy babies)

Aunty Acid Dead on a Jogging Trail Wrapped Canvas | Zulily

Until today.

Today I did a 30 minute workout with Caitlin led by a high pitched perky budgie I wanted to throw things at, but couldn’t because she was on Caitlin’s work computer.

And what did I discover from this madness? Well firstly my left knee is very old.

Secondly, you know those crunches-and-wiggle-wiggle-while-holding-your-abs-tight-and-your-legs-out sit-up type thingies? Well I can’t do those. I think my gynaecologist cut my abs out and forgot to replace them after Liam was born. Caitlin kept saying, ‘Not just your shoulders, Mom’ but damn, that’s all that was coming off the floor so I looked like a demented automatic lycra mop, or a dying, upside-down flabby cockroach, twisting away on my back. It used to be I could do crunches for hours on end; now the closest I can get is the oat crunchies I polished off yesterday.

I also can’t do the ‘the plank.’

‘You’re doing great!’ trilled Video Fitness Girl. Bitch.

So I thought, ‘Cool, I can easily touch my toes and yeah I can walk my hands out… whaaat? I have to hold it there?…More like walk the plank and die!…and now I must balance on one elbow and then on the other? You have GOT to be kidding!’ And then I fell over. There was a time when I could do 100 press ups, now sadly I could only log for a few seconds.

And every time she said, ‘If you’re not very fit, take this (easy) option, I took it.

I also discovered that I whine. A lot.

And then we were told to ‘shake it out.’ She should have know better than to say that to my 55 year old bod. The only reason the blubber didn’t go into perpetual motion was because it was encased in leggings. But shake I did, mainly from the trembling legs which were over-exerted.

High Intensity Interval Training it’s called: Yeah – ‘HIT’ only they can’t spell. Certainly wasn’t a hit with me. Caitlin says it’s a dance class tomorrow night. Caitlin is a bully.

And now my back hurts which tells me I did it all wrong anyway.

I think I should try chess rather. That’s a sport.

Pokémon gets kids Go-ing

Image result for pokemon go  cartoons

I had a surreal (get it?) conversation with my son on our drive home last week. It went like this:

Me: How was school? (I’m not very original)

Youngest Offspring: Fine. (Teenagers are not original either)

Except me and my friends [sic] had to keep re-taking the tuckshop. Did you know there is a gym at Cobblewalk?

Me: Yes, but I can’t afford it.

L-Shaped Child: I’m a Mystic.

Me: I am glad you are growing spiritually, my boy.

Techno Spawn: Mom, please will you drive less than 20km/h or else they’ll think I’m cheating.

Me: No.

Needless to say Mom’s own little pocket monster was not too impressed with his parent. Sigh. Goes with the territory, I suppose, along with having to remind school children that there are no squirtles on the grass at Meridian Pinehurst.

This craze (and I use that word deliberately) has certainly had a galvanising effect on global anti-social sedentary adolescents. It is entertaining to sit at my desk in my bedroom which overlooks our street, and see youngsters tearing down the pavements in search of close encounters of the virtual kind. However, I have warned my younger boys of the dangers of the ‘lures’ being for humans – and that they may be the prey so they should be alert, but that they should also be aware of the danger of roaming around, heads down with smart phones in their hands – again, they are targets for thieves. I am also concerned that in their desperation to capture that elusive Pokémon that they blindly traverse busy roads and get hurt or cause an accident.

As an English teacher, I am aware that the lines between real and imaginary have become even more blurred and have resigned myself to the fact that my son may NEVER use the word ‘literally’ correctly.

Just off to ensure Blanche is washing the dishes…