Ow...

I did not smile while using mine.

Over the weekend, I bought a 65 cm "balance ball." I used one in physical therapy to help strengthen my back and abdominal muscles, and it was pretty enjoyable. So my sainted mother bought me a ball (because, um, we couldn't find shoes I wanted), and I aired it up yesterday evening.

I used a hand-pump. That, in itself, is a fracking workout.

Oy.

I arrived at my apartment, all ready to start ballin' (I'm hip!) and realized I hadn't aired it up enough. Hmmm... I had to remove the plug - needle-nosed pliers were required - and then quickly insert the pump while the enormous thing spewed rubber-smelling air in my face.

I'm sure, at this point, you're already wondering where I'm going to keep my balance ball. Surely, seeing as I'm so decor-conscious, I can't possibly imagine keeping it in view all the time, can I?

Yes. Yes, I can.

I had hoped Target would have a nice metallic gold ball to go with my brass lamps, but they didn't come through for me, this time. No, it was either Kelly Green or Cerulean.

I went with the Kelly Green, because it was latex free, and I was afraid the Cerulean would create too much optic dissonance, it being orange's complementary color, and all.

Right.

So now, my apartment living room looks like an Architectural Digest shoot from about 1978, all bright and ready to leave disco behind, but not quite ready for New Wave.

I'm listening to New Order in honor of the burgeoning music scene about to take place in my apartment.

After the ball was aired up (on the - er - third try), I got to ballin'.

I made it halfway through the DVD that accompanies the ball, before I started hurling decidedly unladylike epithets at the eerily cheerily tan exercise leader and grabbed the remote. Tempted though I was to throw the remote at the screen, I decided I didn't have the energy for it, so I hit "STOP" and dropped the remote on the floor, where I also dropped, in a gasping heap.

I gave up, after that, and made myself dinner.

It wasn't the upper body workout that was so terrible (once I figured out how to stay on the ball for the ball-assisted push ups: FLAIL!), no, what did me in was the lower body workout. My legs aren't exactly strong... at all. It was one of the main sources of focus during therapy. And they once again showed their true colors, this evening, by threatening to collapse as I vainly attempted a half-lunge while sweeping the ball from side to side.

What are my legs' true colors? Post-workout, slightly purplish and trembling in anger at what I put them through.

They inherited my intolerance for insensitive treatment.

They only refrained from screaming obscenities at me because they can't talk, I'm sure.

Exorcise Those Financial Demons and Exercise Your Tush!

I failed to exercise today, but that's because I was busy looking at options for my retirement fund. I just recently did the math and decided that, since I can't deposit money pre-tax into my pathetic excuse for an IRA, I'd cash it out and put the money into a Roth IRA. It seemed to make more sense than paying taxes on the money twice: once before depositing and then again when I withdraw it once I'm old and feeble. Okay, scratch the feeble bit, because I'm essentially there, already.

I spent Saturday spending money on necessary evils (car maintenance, mostly), but still squeezed in some exercise (I walked to get my forms notarized!). I haven't finished researching the stocks and ETFs into which I will invest my brand-spanking new R-IRA, yet, but I'm sure, with the way my current IRA administrator operates, I'll have plenty of time to work on that.

So no exercise today, but I did buy lots of healthy yummy food to eat - steamed, most likely - over the next week. I will not give up my daily Dr. Pepper, because that's what keeps me sane in the mornings, but there will be no more drinking of alcoholic beverages on the days when I have my Dr. Pepper, which means no Dr. P for me on Fridays. I am determined that I will fit into those black jeans again within a month. Maybe two months.

In other news, I finished reading "Wolf Hall," a fascinating novelization of Thomas Cromwell's rise to power during the reign of Henry VIII. Okay, now everyone launch into the Herman's Hermits song. I'll wait until you're finished singing, bad British accent and all.

The book is written with rich detail and vivid descriptions of the life of the nobility and the would-be-nobility. I had always operated under the misunderstanding that Cromwell was high-born, but such is not the case, now that I go back and wiki the man (just to double-check, although the author seemed to hit the details pretty squarely on their heads. At least, according to the Henry VIII biography I read).

I have a sneaking suspicion that the author used more than just Wikipedia in her writings.

A World of Hurt

I've taken up pilates. Yes, pilates (and note to the spellcheck, that is TOTALLY a word).

It all came about when I realized I could no longer comfortably fit into a couple of pairs of jeans I own, then reviewed the past four months' eating habits - and let's be honest, drinking habits - and realized that I was going to have to exercise and eat better or buy some new clothes.

I don't have the money to buy a whole new wardrobe, so guess which option wins?

I dug out an 8-year-old pilates DVD that I had never even prised from its packaging, but had moved a bazillion times, and went to it Sunday afternoon before going to meet some friends for Japanese food.

I thought to myself, "It's only a 30 minute work-out. And I'll do the Level One exercises - with modification - so I won't strain myself. How hard can it be?"

I think we all know where this is going.

I am rediscovering muscle groups I'd forgotten I possessed. I'm also kind of proud to say that I can name them.

I found:

Obliques

Abdominals

Delts

Biceps

Triceps

These had all been missing for a while. I also found my hamstrings and my calf-muscles - oh dear God, did I find my hamstrings! - and now I'm reveling in the soreness that comes from a second day of exercise. It was infinitely more painful, Monday evening, seeing as my poor widdle muskles were already sore, but it will be totally worth it when I can get back into those jeans...

The black ones...

With the slits up the ankles.

Yeah.

Those.