Spire Inspires a Workout!

Summer is finally over so I bet some of you may be contemplating joining a gym. I realize that’s a bit backwards, but if you’re anything like me, you enjoy working out far more when the pressure has been removed to obtain killer abs for men and for women, a thigh gap and a bikini bridge. We actually should only discuss gaps and bridges when we’re in a dental chair so please never strive to achieve an unhealthy shape for your body.

Featured Image: Stefano Montagner // CC 2.0

Enough has been written about diets and food plans that I’ll skip over calorie counting and only mention that this Halloween I’m dressing up as part Baked Potato and part White Rice. I can’t wait to hide around corners,  jumping out to say “Boo” to anyone still terrified of carbs. Please remember that fruits and vegetables are carbohydrates too and shouldn’t be avoided.

Now let’s head to the gym and bring our Spire with us so we can set goals for the Activity section! But first I’ll candidly confess that I haven’t stepped into a fitness center since the early 80’s when I thought the Aerobic fad meant you had to learn to speak the language of an Arab country. Back then I was also appalled that women stopped shaving their legs until I looked closely and realized that all that “fur” was just the leg-warmer trend.

Now that Aerobic is called Cardio and calves are bare again, I think it’s safe to step foot back inside a gym. Another reason I’m about to embark on some regular exercise is I’ve been diagnosed with Adrenal Fatigue (that’s a new catch phrase, right?) and advised that a good workout can alleviate this exhausting condition. I’m not sure how this recommendation will help if my adrenals are too tired to do anything once I arrive. But I plan to start them off slowly. First I’ll coax one of my adrenal glands onto the Stairclimber, while the other one will be encouraged to do a brisk pace on the treadmill.  Meanwhile I’ll take a nap.

So here I am – – finally inside!  I do a ton of huffing, puffing, heaving, tugging and pushing, but the payoff for all that hard work is terrific because I get my work-out shorts on just fine. (Spire also tells me I’m extremely focused — so far so good!)

A Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike greets me at a door with loud music blasting from within and chirps, “Hya, I’m Kimba! Welcomma to our Gymba. Wanna try Zumba?”

Can I just say this – – “Rule of thumba: When you go outa on a limba, and shake your bumma to La Bamba, you’re gonna feel super dumba!”  Interestingly, when the instructor has us check our pulse, I think I hear “All About That Base” coming from my wrist but wisely, I don’t publicize this phenomenon.

Can you hear the beat of a Top 40 hit too?

Can you hear the beat of a Top 40 hit from your wrist also?

After getting laughed out of the crazy Latin-inspired dance class, (how does my respiration register on Spire when I’m mortified?!) I wander thru some more doors down a long hallway and into a little wooden room where women sit profusely perspiring. A lady with another unusual accent (is it Italian?) remarks, “I just love having sonnas.”  She gives me a dirty look when I ask her “What’s wrong with daughters?”  Then a trim, white-towel swathed brunette says it’s been ages since she had a sauna. Still trying to fit in with the hip lingo spoken in this sweltering room (and finding the high temperature intolerable!) I mutter, “Sauna of a Gunna – – it’s hot in here!  You’d think they could afford air-conditioning with such high membership dues!” As I’m escorted out, I overhear the brunette ask the redhead if this is still an exclusive health spa? I check my Spire and sure enough it tells me I’m in a Tense Streak so I follow its recommended breathing exercise which helps a lot.

Next I go through some double doors and meet a handsome young fitness instructor named (according to large print across his white shirt) Nike, who offers to show me where I can pump. Having weaned my son from breastfeeding many years ago, I shyly decline. He gestures at the dumbbells while grunting, “No! I mean iron!” I casually thank him and patiently explain that I use the dry-cleaners down the street when my shirts get wrinkled. He and his friend Reebok continue staring oddly as I glance behind them, swooning over the only comfy, padded, flat surface in the entire room – – a slantboard!

Yawning, I pull on my jammies, blow everyone a goodnight kiss and curl up for my well-deserved nap. But before I drift off, I check on Spire to see its accurate report, “You’re almost calm.”  That’s good enough for me!

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