“What on earth are you up to?”
I had dropped in at Ruby’s for a chat, and found her down on all fours in the centre of her living room, one leg suspended in the air. She had to twist her neck all the way around to check who made this unkind remark.
“Haven’t you seen the latest episode of Keep Fit? This exercise will do wonders for a flabby stomach. Just give me two minutes to finish. Do sit down.”
Ruby went through the paces with much panting and puffing. Only then did she settle down for a chat.
That evening, the husband was feeling demonstratively affectionate. Or so I imagined, until the hug turned into a clinical examination of my waist.
“Just look at all these extra tires!” he exclaimed, only half teasing. Noticing my crestfallen expression, he hastened to add: “More to love!” But the message hit home – hard.
I sneaked a peek at my figure in the mirror – and then looked again. There definitely was a certain amount of flabbiness around the middle. And my arms were looking sturdy instead of supple.
It was all very well to profess that beauty care and glamour were not my scene, that wanting a svelte figure to please the husband was silly and sexist. But that was no excuse to let myself go to seed. I had to do something to get rid of the unwanted kilos.
The next morning, I dutifully switched on the TV at 7:30, and waited patiently for Keep Fit.
“Mommy, please tie my shoe laces.” Why must Sonny choose this time for the task? I bent down to do the job. The TV show began.
Now I had to be all concentration. The hostess of the show looked depressingly fit. “Today, our exercises are meant to shape up the waistline.” A group of slender young people came onto the screen, wearing tights that showed off their slim waists to advantage. I dared not look down at my own. They began to bend and turn, and I tried to copy them as best as my stiff torso permitted.
“Is breakfast ready? Come on, I’m late, you can do these exercises later.” With a sigh, I switched off the show. How could I do the exercises if I couldn’t watch them now?
Later that day, I was delighted to have a long lost collegemate visit. “We’ve just moved into town, and I had to track you down,” Nina declared as we beamed at each other. She looked just the same as she had in college – even better, given all the elapsed years. She was kind enough to say I looked much the same as well – with a sideways glance at my bulging middle.
“How do you do it?” I had to ask the secret of her slim figure.
“It’s these aerobics classes that are simply excellent. I was getting flabby too, so I signed up. In just six weeks, I lost five kilos. You must try them.”
Nina help me find a current aerobics session at the community centre. There was one at six every morning. A bit early – but at least I could be back in time to pack lunches and dish out breakfast. The husband was skeptical about the outcome, but relented when he saw my determined expression.
The next morning, I hauled myself out of bed at five thirty, convincing myself it was all for the good. At the centre, I hesitated to take off my jacket and step out in my tights. After years of hiding under loose shirts, how could I reveal my true bodyline in public?
“Come on dearie, the class is about to begin.” The silhouette of a buxom matron reassured me that I was not alone.
Then the music began. I had a harder time than the others in following the instructor, but consoled myself that it was just my first day. Surely I would improve.
The next morning, as I was setting out, the baby began to cry. I looked appealingly at my husband. “She looks as though she has a fever,” he said. Sure enough, the child was unusually warm. No aerobics today. Nor the next three days.
I returned to the sessions on day four. The instructor looked disapprovingly at me. “You have to be regular to benefit from aerobics,” she advised.
But the next morning, I had to go meet Sonny’s swimming coach at that very hour. The morning after that, the husband needed a ride to the airport to catch a seven o’clock flight. Organized exercising was not going to work for me.
I was in despair. The tires settled in for the long haul. Then someone suggested, “Why do you bother with all the vigorous exercising? Just take a brisk walk every morning.” That seemed a much better idea! I shall start from next Sunday.
1987