Ongoing Stories of My Soul

Look over my shoulder as I ponder life.

The Shape of Things to Come: You’ve Got to be Kidding!

   As I was being held hostage in the dentist’s chair, I picked up a magazine to read. There was only one that I could reach, being that I was tethered by that chain/clip/napkin thing. Who ever got a patent for that invention was one sorry soul.  But I digress. Guess which periodical was in my grasp? The one entitled, ‘InShape’  which is one thing that I am not. Sweet. A root canal and dieting suggestions all in one afternoon.

     I turned to the first article which involved the reader doing a pencil test. This was simple: put a pencil under one’s breast and if it stays put, then breasts are perky. Really? I am sixty-one years old. I could put a pencil, stapler, 3-ring hole punch and a tape dispenser under these babies and they would stay put. Sagging bosoms do that, you know. Lost desk articles does not equate with perky. It gets better. Or worse.

     One motivating article was called, “Shape Up or Ship Out” and I knew that I would be leaving the dock. I like shapes: round, oval, triangle, but the shapes they were suggesting require work. Now…mention ‘take-out’ and I am on board; ‘work-out’, umm not so much. But this writer was dropping words like ‘six-packs’ and while I dreamed of root beer, she went on to discuss ‘ab-controllers’. Hey, my mom used those: she called them girdles. I think they now call them ‘Spanx’ but wrapping oneself in latex is not going to hide one bitter fact: some of us are no longer skinny. You can stuff all of our flab in rubbery, sheath-like garments but that cellulite will break free when you least expect it.  Or worse: the fat will come slithering out of the openings. Stick with sweats (the ones you wear). Now…I will share that I used to go to the gym. But that was when I was in middle school and was assigned to P.E., third period. I’ve done my time. And even have ‘gym suits’ night terrors. Oh come on…you looked as bad in them as I did.

     I truly feel that fitness should be everyone’s goal. I mean, if you try it on and it doesn’t fit, buy a larger size. That is fitness to me. Ladies, we have to own the fact that we are all not built like Jennifer Anniston. And if we are breathing, circulating blood, and have a pulse we are in some kinda shape.

      As I skimmed thorough the article like milk (see what I did there? Skimmed milk…I am already thinking healthy foods) and saw the word ‘Pil-o-Eats’ I was thrilled! Reading about a ‘pile of eats’ was my kind of literature. Imagine my surprise when I reread that title to be: ‘Pilates’. The writer expected me to bend and stretch and hold–like I was elastic or something. I could only think of these possible outcomes: tendonitis, bursitis, arthritis, and other itis’s I have not yet encountered. See what I mean? Exercising is not medically safe.

     Well, the dentist sauntered in and saved me from the rest of the magazine. I am sure the other patients thought I had gone mad when the hygienist commented, “Hey have you lost some weight?” and I danced around giving her a hug and a high five. That magazine had worked! It was a miracle! I was shaping up just by reading about it!

      Maybe next time I will read Forbes and become a millionaire….just like the guy who invented the napkin/clip/chain thing. He must have known it was the shape of things to come….and I am not kidding.