An Excercise Loather's Guide to Getting Fit, Part 3

In which I prove my lack of coordination, gain sore muscles, and pay homage to a Kardashian.


The other day my feet fell asleep for no reason. Because I am a rational, pragmatic, calm, stable woman, I immediately assumed that this was a sign of early onset diabetes. Which sent me into a flurry of determined aerobic activity, in hopes of bringing my health up to snuff and staving off debilitating disease. I put on my sneakers posthaste, tuned my ipod the the Ke$ha songs I guiltily secret in the category of "only listen to when other people aren't around" and ventured forth into my neighborhood. Things went fairly well. I walk-jogged for about 35 minutes, up and down a couple hills, and made a nice loop through some attractive houses. As I neared home, full of confidence and pride, I decided to add a little excitement to the workout.

What Kourtney K looks like

I had recently read a feature in SHAPE magazine about Kourtney Kardashian and the workout that keeps her sane. Normally I skip right over these types of articles, because hearing another celebrity talk about how they work with a trainer eight hours a day, hire nutritionist to make them wheatgrass and beet smoothies (which they drink almost as much as they drink Voss water) and then go to Whole Foods to get some really stellar flax-infused turkey bacon that they swear tastes just like the real thing ("I don't miss meat at all!"), really just makes me want to run up the road to the super Wal-Mart and buy a gallon of artichoke dip to munch on while I watch re-runs of 30 Rock. I mean, we could all have superhuman bodies if we did nothing all day every day but workout and have someone yell at us every time we think the words "butter" or "fried chicken". Alas, most of us spend eight hours a day actually working, often at a soul-sucking, primarily sedentary job that drains us of energy and inspiration, causing us to only desire to eat and pet our animals when we get home at the end of the day.

What I look like

To her credit, Kourtney's interview seemed much more realistic. She mentioned having to get up and go running early in the morning so she could be back in time to feed her baby, and because she is too busy to work out for the rest of the day. Good job, Kourtney, I find I can relate to that somewhat. Then there were little flashcards picturing Kourtney doing high skips and running to the side rather than facing forwards (this is supposed to be a great workout for the inner thighs). The point being, I determined I could give this a shot. So on this fateful morning, a few blocks away from my house, I decided to do some high skips. I threw myself into the exercise with great enthusiasm, but I did not foresee the necessity of an ipod arm band (which I have never bought, never being a person active enough to need an external device to hold my ipod still on my arm). I held my ipod in my hand, causing my headphone cord to swing every time I lifted my arm to skip. The cord quickly became tangled around my ponytail, causing the headphones to be violently ripped out of the ipod, shocking me, and causing me to trip, drop my house keys, and look around in mortification to see if any of my neighbors had witnessed my, ahem, moment. Though there were no neighbors standing on the curb laughing at me, I walked the last few feet home, dejected. "I bet Kourtney Kardashian never has these problems," I thought, already planning on a. only running on a treadmill from that day forward and b. buying some cordless headphones, no matter the cost. And an ipod arm band. And a personal trainer who will follow me around yelling at me to exercise more.

Which brings me to the moral of the story: Kourtney Kardashian's workout is gold. It totally works. Despite only getting in a few reps, and despite my totally humiliation on the street where I live, my thighs were definitely sore the next day. So sore that I went on a bike ride with my husband in an effort to continue their damage and repair. So perhaps I will keep trying the hops and skips, in the privacy of my own home, where my ipod can be safely docked on the blu-ray player, out of arm's reach.

If you are interested in the issue of SHAPE that started this odyssey, please find it here.