by Nancy Gallimore
Irecently had a visit to the doctor’s office.
Nothing specific, just checking my annual
physical off the old to-do list. All part of my attempt to be a somewhat responsible, healthy adult.
As nurses and doctors tend to do, they had a list of questions surrounding my personal health habits — questions targeted specifically for women of a “certain age.” You know, the “cheaper movie ticket” age.
Nurse: “I see you’ve gained some weight.”
Me: “There was a pandemic. I learned to cook, but only bread and desserts.”
Nurse: “Your cholesterol has gone up a couple of points.”
Me: “See the previous answer.”
The dialogue carried on something like that. Then she continued with questions about my exercise habits. “Do you exercise regularly?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately and assuredly. “I exercise daily.” In her mind, she was
probably envisioning a gym membership. In my mind, I was picturing the 50 times a day I walk across the house to let the dogs in and out despite the fact there is a dog door not 10 feet from the back door. But they have my best interest at heart, I’m sure. They see me start to be the slightest bit relaxed on the couch, they immediately convince me to stand back up to assist with their no-opposable-thumb doorknob dilemma. Sit, stand, walk. Sit, stand, walk. Repeat 10 sets.
Then I was picturing the routine I go through bending and straightening as I scoop meal after meal of kibble into bowls and distribute them to our herd of hungry hounds. Bend and scoop, bend and scoop. We do several sets of this exercise twice daily, 365 days a year.
There’s also my steady progress around and around the backyard scooping the little gifts my dogs deposit following those countless meals. Or how about the daily sweeping I do with the broom or vacuum to collect the ever-present coating of hair gathering along baseboards and under the furniture? How are these dogs not bald? For the record, I do sweep to the left and then switch and sweep to the right for a balanced, fullbody workout.
That surely counts as exercise, right?
She then asked me about my cardio routine. Yes, I answered. I am very dedicated to cardio. She was likely thinking I religiously hopped on my somewhat dusty treadmill or joined a spin class. I was thinking of the mad daily sprints after my eight-month-old Dalmatian puppy as he dashes through the house with yet another stolen television remote, prized shoe, or solo sock. He really got my heart racing that time he found my cell phone.
“At your age,” said my very by-the-book nurse, “you need to think about bone density.” She explained that weight training was great for maintaining healthy bones. Did I lift weights?
Again, her imagination was likely flashing back to that fictitious gym membership, perhaps even complemented by a knowledgeable fitness coach showing me how to execute a perfect squat with a barbell balanced across my shoulders. My mind hopped to the three 40-pound bags of dog food I have to lift into the cart at the store, transfer into the back of my car, and then hoist one at a time onto my shoulder to carry into the house. That surely counts as a weight-training routine, right? So I pat myself on the back and check that one off the list.
Keeping Me Balanced
As we continued our chat about my healthy lifestyle (everything is subjective), she counseled me on the pros of improving my balance and maintaining my flexibility as I age (she was very determined to remind me that time is marching on). Did
I do a daily stretching routine to maintain a limber, strong body?
While she was likely suggesting stretchy clothes and a thin mat in a room filled with people happily saluting the sun or some such pose, my mind flashed to my version of downward dog which involves trying to wedge myself into my own bed amidst a pack of snoring real-deal, oblivious dogs. Think of sliding yourself into a six-inch strip of bed by executing a backbend into a plank followed by a half-twisting pike flip to secure that precious personal space.
Then imagine you are required to sleep with one arm extended over your head, the other wrapped around one 50-pound pooch, and your legs in runner pose to create a nest for not one but two others competing for prime cuddle spots. Do I do a stretching routine on a regular basis? Oh, heck, yes, I do.
And balance? OK, I’m sure my nurse was thinking specific, planned exercises. You know, back to that yoga class where you test your ability to hold steady on one foot while the rest of your body is artfully twisted like a human pretzel. I, on the other hand, take great pride in my ability to handle the unexpected balance challenges that only a houseful of enthusiastic dogs can present.
For example, how many people can remain upright on a set of stairs while a herd of wild hyenas (OK, my dogs) race from behind, create a living avalanche around and through your legs, only to bound ahead and come to a sudden stop midstaircase, directly in your path? If that’s not an amazing
balancing exercise, I don’t know what is. And I’m proud to say I have yet to plunge down the stairs to land in a crumbled mass of human and canine tragedy thanks to my strong core … or possibly my strong instinct to survive. Either way, it’s in the win column.
Keeping Me Strong
I completed my physical in relatively good form with no big red flags. Taking the nurse’s advice to heart, I have decided it’s time to replace some of my pandemic-inspired eating habits with more salads. I also decided that I could probably stand to use that treadmill in the bedroom for adding more steps to my day instead of using it as a handy spare clothes rack. Yes, I can purposefully work on a few lifestyle changes.
But swap out my natural, canine-inspired fitness routine for a gym membership? It’s never going to happen. These dogs keep me moving. They keep me inspired. They keep me strong. They also keep me covered in hair and the occasional smear of slobber. And I’ll take it. They are going to see me into my golden years (not quite there yet!) in great form.
And as I take a couple of the dogs out for a walk, I’m going to smile and think of that nurse who was so concerned for my welfare. She’s going to be so proud of me sticking to my personal exercise routine. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll prescribe a dog or two to some of her other patients. My four-legged family has certainly proved to be pretty good medicine for me.
