The following is a post that I wrote more than a week ago but didn't publish at the time................. well, in the light of 'Homo horizontalis' (7th November) just remember, Oscar Wilde said that paradox lies at the heart of human existence.
Dear reader, proceed..............
I know what I have to do - cardio-vascular exercise. I can continue with my pilates-cum-yoga but I need to ensure that I get more oxygen into my bloodstream and rebuild some of the lost bulk in my muscles. (Yes, I did say 'rebuild'.) So, unsure as to the wisdom of attaching a drainage pipe from my bank account to a gym, we've been looking at a piece of equipment for the home; an upright exercise bike, a recumbent or perhaps a cross trainer. We have looked online but my QEH physio suggested visiting Decathlon in the same retail park as IKEA in Wednesbury. Diana is immediately interested in anything adjacent to IKEA.
Recumbent bikes are not available when we find Decathlon but by the time I've tried a few cross trainers and uprights, I'm exhausted and sore-footed. IKEA appears increasingly attractive.
Then someone had a brainwave. It may even have been me. Why not contact the people at Moseley School's own LA Fitness Centre (that's LA as in Local Authority)? So, I renewed my acquaintance with Jag, the centre manager, who was incredibly helpful. I explained about the cancer and degenerating, scoliotic spine and rather than put the phone down he was willing to talk, taking an holistic approach to my condition and the part exercise might play.
He has already given me the opportunity to experience recumbent bikes in the gym and promises to design a personal exercise routine for me at home. Meanwhile I can use the gym and spend some time on the equipment there. He advises me not to rush into a purchase.
One item we have decided to purchase immediately is a seed and wheat grass sprouter complete with its own automatic mist watering system. We aim to grow a lot more sprouting seeds and possibly wheat grass.
If we invite you for a meal, you're in for a real treat.
Wednesday 7 November 2012
Homo horizontalis
Increasingly, the floor opens her arms in welcome.
I am alone at such moments - perhaps tending the wood-burning stove or retrieving a domestic object that has reached the surface of our planet (well, but for the rug, the boards and the cellar's brick flooring............). I then find myself tempted to go down onto 'all fours' and mimic our mammalian cousins (but alas, without their infinite capacity for fluidity, ease and grace). No, I rheumatically flex my hips and lumbar spine in the manner that I have been taught by my Pilates instructors.
But this is merely a device, a self-deception, because soon I have descended yet further, finding relief in allowing my burdensome trunk to make full surrender to the force of gravity.
Ah gravity - throughout our lives we fight this invisible monster. We unashamedly surrender to it in moments of Wembley or Wimbledon-winning exultation, when sleeping, when unwell and when partaking in other unmentionably playful pursuits; but generally we are encouraged, instructed even, to fight it in the spirit of our prehistoric forebears - head up, shoulders back, stomach in, knees straight. (This is the litany Diana recites for me on a regular basis).
But little by little, day by debilitating day, gravity works a crooked finger into our athletic resolve - the bent knees, the slumped shoulders, the further curving of the spine. Is it surprising then that the word itself has been leased for use when a term is needed for that which is serious, weighty and solemn?
As for me; at last I lie in splendid solitude - I roll over, onto my back, every part of me now blithely cemented to the floor. Gravity wins - and I can relax.
There is dangerous comfort here.
Time to rise - and shine?
I am alone at such moments - perhaps tending the wood-burning stove or retrieving a domestic object that has reached the surface of our planet (well, but for the rug, the boards and the cellar's brick flooring............). I then find myself tempted to go down onto 'all fours' and mimic our mammalian cousins (but alas, without their infinite capacity for fluidity, ease and grace). No, I rheumatically flex my hips and lumbar spine in the manner that I have been taught by my Pilates instructors.
But this is merely a device, a self-deception, because soon I have descended yet further, finding relief in allowing my burdensome trunk to make full surrender to the force of gravity.
Ah gravity - throughout our lives we fight this invisible monster. We unashamedly surrender to it in moments of Wembley or Wimbledon-winning exultation, when sleeping, when unwell and when partaking in other unmentionably playful pursuits; but generally we are encouraged, instructed even, to fight it in the spirit of our prehistoric forebears - head up, shoulders back, stomach in, knees straight. (This is the litany Diana recites for me on a regular basis).
But little by little, day by debilitating day, gravity works a crooked finger into our athletic resolve - the bent knees, the slumped shoulders, the further curving of the spine. Is it surprising then that the word itself has been leased for use when a term is needed for that which is serious, weighty and solemn?
As for me; at last I lie in splendid solitude - I roll over, onto my back, every part of me now blithely cemented to the floor. Gravity wins - and I can relax.
There is dangerous comfort here.
Time to rise - and shine?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)