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Ooh, aah, ouch, am I having fun yet?

Itís two days into my attempt to capture the Presidential Adult Active Lifestyle Award and my muscles, especially those that have been laying dormant in the calves of my legs, are screaming at me, ìStop, donít do this lady.î
All I did was move about Saturday and Sunday, pushing, pulling, walking, stretching, doing something that didnít require a seat.
No, I did not enter into a rigorous exercise routine, I did not start a new sport, or even pick up on an old one. I just moved my body, and woke up muscles that thought they were getting a free ride for the rest of my life.
And Iím paying for it. But, Iíll keep trying.
I hope many of you have decided to join me, I know a number of you indicated you have. A couple of weeks ago I challenged the community to work toward this award, which runs for a six-week period, and it did stir a lot of interest.
Of course, some of you have a head start on me and are already active, and I applaud you. Attaining this 30-minute, five-day a week goal wonít be difficult for you. But this time youíll get a reward for your daily efforts. And thatís good.
If I can only tell my muscles how good this is going to be for me.
I feel I must take you back, to the days of my youth, and start forward so I can prove to you I have not always been so inactive.
Early memories find me on roller skates - I still have my skate key somewhere - on a tricycle and then bicycle. My 26î balloon-tire bike came from the ìdump,î that old-time word for ìlandfill.î My dear dad, the good-intentioned father that he was, brought home a frame which he hammered and poked at until it resembled a bike, put on some tires and painted it red, with a brush. I was ecstatic, until I saw the kind of bikes my friends were riding. Well, it was all I was going to get, so I accepted it.
Other activities included tree climbing, lots of that, until they cut down all the trees in the area for new homes. I swam, I even earned my lifesaving certificate. To do so I had to ride my bicycle halfway around White Bear Lake to the northern beach. The class was rigorous and I was exhausted by the time I had to hop back on my bike and ride home. I rode my bike everywhere. Finally, in 7th grade I could take my old bike no more and went to work babysitting two impudent children to earn enough money to buy a Huffy three-speed. That was the ìinî thing then.
And so I rode more and more. I played tennis, too, and belonged to an after school girls athletic program (GAA) which provided even more physical activity. And I walked a lot.
Shortly after we were married we moved to the country where I raised lots of animals, and that included daily cleaning of the barn. I planted and tended a humongous garden. For many years my ìroto-tillerî was an old walk behind people-powered three-pronged garden plow, with a bent wheel. I rode horse for some 15 years, chased after five children and cut acres of lawn, with a push mower, not always self-propelled. I was active.
And then I went to work outside the home, sitting at meetings, sitting at a desk writing, sitting in the car to get to the meetings and the office where the desk sat.
So sitting became the norm. And the more I put my brain to work, the less my body had to. And so here I am, in the prime of my life, well, I think so, and the thought of being physically active for 30 minutes a day scares the heck out of me.
So, you see, this challenge is really a challenge for me. On top of all the mental activity now, Iím forcing myself to get active.
I may find out that I can find time for the physical part of life alongside all the sitting, thinking and writing.
However, there might come a time when I have drained the brain and gained the pain and I might go to pieces all together.
If that happens, somebody please come to my rescue. Remember, six weeks, keep your minutes and type of activity logged, and at the end weíll celebrate. See ya. Ooh, aah, ouch.

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