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Posts Tagged ‘exercise’

My doctor has given me 30 days in which to turn my diabetes around or go on medication. Since sweets and sugar have been cut from my diet since my cancer diagnosis I am not sure how I find myself in a diabetic condition. However, it may be carbohydrate related. I bake my own breads and I do enjoy eating pasta. I eat almost anything Italian because that is my heritage and the way I grew up. I am finding that food is a very cultural thing.

Since I am not going to give up my Italian eating, I figured the next best thing was to try and add a good bit of exercise to my day’s schedule. While I do Tai Chi, it is not aerobic. Yoga is impossible to do with Yarn Rascal. Yesterday I tried to do a Yoga workout and when it came to the plank position Yarn Rascal thought it a great treat to jump on my back. The extra 17 pounds caused me to collapse onto the floor. A full face plant, so to speak, and a biting of my tongue. What my tongue was doing between my teeth in the first place I have no idea. Anyway, Yarn Rascal thought it was great and laid down on my back wagging his tail. I am still lisping as I speak today, though the tongue feels better.

My next line of thought was to find the exercise bike at my mother’s house. Mom and Dad have lived in the same house for over 60 years, which means 60 years of accumulated things in the cellar. But if I remember correctly I stored the bike there only about 20 years ago.  So over to Mom and Dad’s and down into the cellar.

It took archeologists 3,000 years to uncover King Tut’s tomb. I looked at their cellar and thought 3,000 years was a blink of an eye compared to what I was facing. So I’ve started excavating. I’ve discovered many amazing things that I had forgotten that took me back to childhood days. My Barbie and Ken dolls along with Skipper and Madge. All the little doll dresses my grandmother sewed by hand for them. I also realized that excavating is a workout in and of itself.  Along the way I discovered that the back has a lot of muscles that will spasm long after the excavating stops. Who knew that when you breath your back muscles are part of the process?

I think I may be closing in on the exercise bike. I did find the baby grand piano that was down there. So there is hope. Of course the bike is smaller than the piano but hope springs eternal.

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Movement

I wish I could tell you all the things that have been happening here but there are just so many.

The sock madness has halted. I am 32 rows short of completing the second sock of the second pair of socks. The unfinished sock is in a prominent place so it sits and stares at me and makes me feel guilty.

I have, what I thought would be an easy shawl on the needles. It’s all garter stitch and short-rows. I am here to tell you it is not as easy as I thought and since I am looking at ripping back to the beginning for the fifth time I can say that it is bordering on masochistic knitting. The problem is not the pattern it’s me, the knitter. Despite using stitch markers in large quantity I am still getting lost on where I am at in the pattern.

I am seriously thinking that the reason for all the trouble is that this is some cosmic karma thing and I am meant to be doing something else other than this shawl. Call it masochistic, but I am even more determined to knit this shawl. Usually when a project gives me this much trouble I put it in the time out bin where it can think about what a pain in the neck it is being. But if I did that then I would need to either A) pick up the sock and finish it, or B) work on the Shetland shawl. I will go to all lengths to not work on the Shetland shawl as that needs precise, fine-tuned concentration which is in short supply here at the moment.

I’ve recently been to the doctor and the news was not so good. I now have diabetes. Since I don’t want to take more medication because not everything plays nicely with my cancer medication I have persuaded him to give me three months to turn the diabetic numbers around.

After learning about diabetes, the only thing that I am doing to contribute to it is being kind of sedentary. He decided I should start a regular exercise routine. Easy for him to say. So my new morning ritual incorporates exercise. Today I tried yoga. I can see that while it is interesting it may not work for me. It seems that whenever I am on the floor in a downward dog pose, Yarn Rascal takes it as a signal to position himself between my body and the floor while licking my face. If I fall while in this position I will crush him to death. Doing yoga with Yarn Rascal is not going to work, I can see that. As long as I am on the floor the dog takes it as play time and cuddle time.

That leaves walking, tai chi, and working in the garden. There may be plenty of work to do in the garden this year. We have no bees in our area. The two apiaries near us have no honey bees. Bees pollinate the plants, especially tomato plants. As of now it looks like we will be hand pollinating all the plants this year. This is not a good turn of events climate-wise.

Well, that’s all the down time I have. I am going to try and excavate the exercise bike from my mother’s basement. Just attempting the extrication should qualify as some heavy duty exercise. It’s all about movement, my friends.

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Thankfully I don’t make lists. Though if I were to make a top ten list of things I should never do, watching the evening news while not knitting would be in the top 5 of that non-existent list. It only leads me into trouble.

I lost the use of my right hand the other day after the vampires medical staff at my doctor’s office couldn’t find the vein in my arm and decided to use the vein in my hand to draw blood. Any kind of “blood work” excites medical people in the same way that a bar of good chocolate thrills a chocolate lover. Since I only have one arm to offer them, the other on my mastectomy side can’t be used for such things, drawing blood is sometimes an involved procedure. It was like that this time.

I came home and knitted away, thinking nothing of the pain in my right hand. Just before the evening news began, I realized the pain was…well…painful. I put down the needles and in doing so made a big mistake. Rather than being the white noise in the background while knitting, the news became something I was going to literally watch and listen too. Just an aside here, television news is not my main source of information, I have a variety of respectable newspapers and magazines that I read to stay informed of things that annoy me and over which I have no control.

As a former journalist, I am qualified to say that evening news casts now are not the evening news casts of then. I don’t know what to call them now other than some mish-mash of tragedy and comedy devoid of relevant information. But the “story” that lead me into trouble wasn’t a story at all, but a promo clip from a longer interview a child-like reporter did with Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. If I had been knitting, I would not have heard any of this. But I was not knitting.

The part of the promo clip that got to me was at the end when the child-like reporter looks into the camera and announces that Justice Ginsburg does 20 push-ups a day. Justice Ginsburg is 81 and in questionable health. Really, 20 push ups a day? The child-like reporter smiles into the camera as it is the end of her segment and I am left feeling annoyed. Follow-up questions needed to be asked such as: Do you do 20 consecutive push-ups? Or do you space them out over a 24 hours period and do one or two here, another couple after lunch, then a few more with your wine at night?

After spending a day of interfacing with the medical community and scheduling a battery of uncomfortable tests to see if my cancer has reoccurred or if a different cancer has sprung up in a different area of my body, I have burning questions about those 20 push-ups. I am 59 and I can’t do 20 consecutive push-ups. I can only do 7. And in all truth, what with my mastectomy, push-ups probably are not the best exercise for me to do.

Nevertheless, I have been getting down on the floor each night and doing push-ups. I’m still only at 7, but I hope by next week to increase it to 9. If all my cancer tests come back negative, I should be on target to reach 20 consecutive push-ups by July 1. I will never watch another news show without knitting needles and yarn in hand. These push-ups are killing me.

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Much to my dismay, the “getting in shape” part of life continues. Should I live through it, I promise myself never to fall “out of shape” again.

Saturday morning began with a solid wasp sting to my right Achilles tendon. The villain was a yellow jacket. While they have nasty dispositions, yellow jackets are beneficial to the garden eco system, which is the only reason why I don’t aggressively eradicate every one of the little terrors. I was “getting in shape” when I came across it, specifically moved out of its way only to have it unknowingly stalk me and sting me when I paused for breath. The result was the eco system has one less yellow jacket.

Limping home, accompanied by the standard cloud of bugs swirling around my head, didn’t improve my mood. When I got home, I reached for an ice pack and Benedryl (yes I am allergic to wasp stings), settled myself in the chair with my “relaxing” knitting and waited for the ice and Benedryl to work.

On the last row of the stockinette part of the shawl I realized the number of stitches called for could in no way be attained by keeping in pattern. Put aside the yarn and needles, get the pencil, get the paper, get the calculator. I had to tech edit the whole pattern. Mistakes were found. The pattern was bought on Ravelry. I looked through the notes other knitters made. All alluded to mistakes and assumed the wrong was on them and not the pattern. The quandary I find myself in is whether to PM the designer and tell her of the mistakes and suggest how she can fix them privately or just point them out and give the fix for them in my project notes. What would you do? For me, I would want the PM. However, I don’t want to be stepping over anyone’s boundaries.

On the other knitting front, The Skipper’s sock is calling me to finish it. A small yarn sacrifice is scheduled for this afternoon. Yarn Rascal will be besides himself with joy.

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It’s Always Something

The Scallop-Edge Shawlette continues to progress. It starts by casting on 2 stitches which grows to 262 sts. I just reached 200 sts last night. For now, its all stockinette st with simple yos, which makes it a relaxing knit. Also in its favor, Yarn Rascal is not attracted to the yarn. Patton’s Stretch Sock is a cotton, wool, nylon, elastic mix. Yarn Rascal is 100% pure wool loving. Thus, I am not constantly interrupted by him jumping into my lap from all directions of the living room to gain the yarn.

Speaking of Yarn Rascal, somehow he knows I’m planning a small offer of yarn to the knitting-powers-that-be in hopes that I can uneventfully finish the second sock for The Skipper. The idea of a small offering came from Ribbing Yarns. Since an offering of wool with fire seemed a bit 12th century, I decided to update by giving a tiny ball of merino to Yarn Rascal. He must know I am planning this. For the last few days, he’s been sitting in front of the closet doors to the yarn vault in wild eyed expectation. When I walk past them, he howls and races to get in front of me, trying to herd me back to the doors. As a Bichon, he has no herding dog instinct in him, so I find his herding behavior a little bewildering. Rather than stumble over him, I usually pick him up and whisper, “Soon, my love” into his ear.

Resuming my yoga and walking routines hasn’t been easy. This has been a bad season for my allergies. When they are this bad, I usually feel unwell all over. Doing the downward dog yoga pose is right miserable when my eyes are itching and watering, my nose is running, and I’m coughing. A picture of health I’m not.

As for walking, the bugs have been awful. They are the kind that encircle my head and follow me no matter how fast I go. So my routine is to start out walking. Step up the pace while swatting bugs with one arm. Then step up the pace again swatting bugs with both arms–a great work out for the arms, by the way. Finally when I can’t stand having bugs around me anymore, I run while flailing my arms around my head like a lunatic. A relaxing way to get back into shape it’s not. Thankfully, it’s suppose to rain all day today, which means I only have to sniffle and cough my way through the yoga. What a blessing.

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