Some things happen out of the blue that make me giggle. Not long ago that was just what happened. I was riding in an elevator, by myself, four or five times in a day for several days. It was in a hospital where there were loads of elevators to ride up and down in. So many that riding alone happened nearly every time on the trips I was taking from the ground floor up to the fifth floor and back down.
As I get on an elevator, I move to the back out of habit. One time as the big silver monster started its downward free-fall, internal anxiety was alive and well within me and I took a step or two forward. Not much room in an elevator to pace, you know. Well, I took those few steps and it was the weirdest feeling. Like I was falling through space. Apparently as the elevator goes down faster than your foot, your foot takes just the tiniest bit more time to hit the floor and it’s, like, well, just for a split second it’s like being weightless. Something, I might add, I’ve always wanted to be. Well, maybe not weightless, but at least have the scale register the weight I would weigh if I were on a scale on the moon, even though I’m on the earth! That’s what made me giggle. But back to the elevator.
Oh, you have got to try this. The next ride down I tried a few more steps and then I walked in a circle a few times. That felt like I wasn’t only going down a circular staircase, but doing so at more than my regular clippity clop speed. It was kind of refreshing, giving my legs and brain something to sort out. But then I tried it on an up trip.
Yes, I should have stuck with just enjoying the down trip. If down is like an exhale, up is like an inhale, more of a workout. As the elevator goes up and you raise your foot and put it back down, the floor of the elevator comes up to meet your foot and it feels like you’re climbing stairs. It’s a remarkable phenomenon too, but not as cool as that fun, free-fall on the down ride. However, I now find myself doing these exercises every time I’m in an elevator — alone. Don’t do this with other elevator riders on board. Especially in a hospital, where the men in white coats can meet you as the door to the elevator opens. They will escort you to a nice quiet room with padded walls and no windows.
But talk about being a multitasker. Now even though I’m taking the elevator, I’m taking the stairs, too. I know, I know, it’s just a few steps, but I tell myself a few here and there add up over time. There are those of us who listen intently but then don’t do those lovingly doctor-ordered loads of exercises. Oh, we all anticipate doing them and eating right and getting enough sleep, et al. As we all should.
However, in between that little room in which we get “the talk” and the safety of our car — well, you know what happens. If there’s even the slightest breeze in the parking lot, the doctor’s words are blown out of my head. My father would say that’s because there’s not much between my ears to hold stuff in. Funny I remember that though!
So these elevator exercises are a step in the right direction. I figure a step here and a step there is better than no step anywhere. I once heard Joan Rivers say the best exercise for her was a good brisk — sit! But that kind of one, two, one, two calisthenics will not help to relieve anyone’s muffin top or those lovely love handles.
Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her book ITY BITS can be found on Kindle. Share with her at itybytrina@yahoo.com.
