Fitness Fairness

    My good friend, Shanti, recently mentioned in a Facebook post that she was going to re-initiate a push-up exercise program she had participated in once before and invited others to join with her in this endeavor.  "Why not?" I asked myself.  "I'm in, " I posted.  My wife decided this sounded like fun and informed me she also was in.  We were both pretty excited about this new adventure.  That was last week, when the dark shadow of impetuosity obliterated the 40 watt twisty bulb of reason.  I will now shine the light of reality on our actions.

    Reality check number one: I am an old guy.  I blew past my 60th birthday months ago.  Shanti is the same age as my son.  Granted, the program has built-in adjustments for age and relative strength, but things are just more difficult for the decrepit.  When I posted that I had completed my initial assessment and established a baseline in the medium range for my old-guyness, she replied that she was going to start on week three because she was so advanced!  That's right, suckered me in, then started the bragging.  If there was money on the line, I'd have to accuse her of being a push-up shark.

    Reality check number two: I'm a guy, so I have to do the regular push-ups.  I'm a stickler for following the rules, so I have to do them correctly.  My wife is doing those modified, wimpy knee push-ups that reduce the lifting load by 50%!  She also insists that we do these at the same time; some kind of "togetherness" thing, she said.  So, I began my first set of ten.  While I was straining and groaning, concentrating on overcoming the agony coursing through my arms and chest, she was working on her nails, reading her Kindle and Skyping.  When I got to my last three she plopped down on the floor and knocked out her required three.  While she returned to her primping, reading and socializing I lay on my back moaning and gasping for air.  A minute went by and we repeated this unjust scene.  I'm a little slow to catch on, but I now believe this is not so much about "togetherness" as gloating.  Yesterday, as I groaned and flopped face down on the floor after my second set of 15 she, with no outward evidence of having strained herself while completing her grueling set of 5, informed me that I was "being over dramatic."  Is that what they are calling near death from exhaustion these days?

    Reality check number three: I have actually gained a couple of pounds since beginning this challenge.  That's two more pounds of weight to be lifted each push-up. 

    Reality check number four: This is only the end of Week 1.  I just got a look at the schedule for Week 2.  While I am chalking up push-ups in the double digits, the dear, sympathetic, supportive wife will reach her point of exhaustion while getting all the way up to 7 wimpy-style push-ups.  I predict my groaning will continue, but her disrespectful behavior toward her near totally exhausted husband will multiply at a furious rate.

    Should you, in a weak moment impetuosity, decide to try out this program, you can find it at the address below.

http://hundredpushups.com/index.html

P.S.  Thanks, Shanti.  Hope you will join us soon, after we catch up to your advanced stage of farm-woman strength.