Craft Rage

Okay. I don't normally enter blog contests (the exception that proves the rule happens when Summerset raffles off her art garment postcards).

In this case, though, since my fiance and I have been in the market for a Nintendo Wii and Wii Fit kit for the last little while (they can't keep them on the shelves in our town), and the prize for this contest IS a Nintendo Wii and Wii Fit kit, I figure, what the heck!

Jenny at Three Kid Circus wants us to tell our readers about...well, about the dumbest purchases we've made in the name of fitness.

Sadly, I have more than one.

First off, I am oldish. Not old, but oldish. I remember when the Thighmaster first came out, and Suzanne Somers was all over the TV, hawking these miracle machines. My stepdad, bless his lovely, kooky soul, bought me one for my birthday when I was 16. He didn't buy it 'cause I was fat, or he had any particular idea what my thighs might be like, he bought it because it was a gadget, and who doesn't like gadgets!?

I thanked him graciously, and hastily hid it away. Fast forward two years, and I'm packing my room, getting ready to go off to the military. I come across the Thighmaster that's been residing in a box under my bed, and think "Hey, why not give it a try?"

I sit down on the side of my bed, put the thing where it seems like it's supposed to go, right between the knobby parts at the sides of my knees. I start squeezing. First few reps - easy! Next few reps - still easy! By 50, I'm straining a bit. By 76, I'm done, but won't allow myself to quit until I reach 100. At 89, I start to lean forward, really putting myself into it.

At 94, I shift my knees slightly, and go for a big push, really hunching over to get as much leverage as I can. The whole Thighmaster shifts and rotates, and without warning, the big, hard red knob in the middle of the thing flies up quite rapidly, and hits me square in the mouth.

Ladies and gentlemen, can you say "Split lip"? And one slightly loose front tooth.

My second ill-conceived purchase was the Tony Little Gazelle. I was 22, and really, it's the only thing I've ever bought from The Shopping Channel. That I will tell you about. Or admit to.

The thing that made me want to buy this is how fun Tony made it look. I enjoyed his screams of "YOU CAN DOOOO EEEEEIT!" even though I was harbouring the secret belief that I could not, in fact, do it.

The thing arrives in a box, mostly assembled. I read the directions, put together the last few bits, and hop on.

The first few strides, I'm smiling like a loon. This IS fun! I CAN do eeeit! Faster and faster I glide, taking larger and larger strides. There's no resistance and no bumping, and it takes a while to break out in a sweat, but when I do, I take my hand off the handlebar and reach for my towel.
When I'm finished blotting, I drop my towel, and realize that I am not coordinated enough to grab the handlebar again without stopping. I make a few half-hearted attempts to grab it anyway, and the idea of stopping so I can grab it DOES cross my mind. But instead, I decide that I'll take my other hand off the other handlebar, and rest my hands on the sides while I glide.

I do this, but soon realize that the quality of my workout has dropped, so once again, without stopping, I start grabbing for the handles.

I am REALLY uncoordinated. REALLY. I manage to grab one handle - that is, I put my hand out and the handle miraculously smacks right into my palm - and I lunge for the second, and overshoot. I'm off balance, and lunging, and the whole apparatus shifts microscopically, because my stride is now off. This panics me a bit, because really, it shouldn't move, should it? But do I stop? No, I lunge forward again, and the handlebar I have a grip on comes shooting back, and I punch myself in the mouth.

No split lip. Just one slightly loosened tooth, and scars on the back of my right hand where I poked myself with my teeth. Plus, I fell backwards when I punched myself, and hit the back of my head on the coffee table. And got one foot caught between the support structure and a moving pedal, so I had a nice bruise on both sides of one leg.

And last but not least, my Carmen Electra Fit To Strip series.

I got the whole series from Ebay, and I'd be lying to you if I said I never used it. In fact, I used it this morning. The thing is, I've adapted it to the point that it probably no longer resembles "Carmen Electra's Fit To Strip" and looks more like "Big Bird And Snuffaluffagus Go Dancing".

The first time I tried it, I reviewed all the disks, then jumped right in to try the Lap Dance. I dragged a kitchen chair into the living room, and danced around a bit (I'm not coordinated, but I have a fairly decent sense of rhythm - go figure), and at one point, I got so into the spirit of it that I started to bend over and let my hair down, shaking it out in my very best impersonation of Carmen Electra.

Except I forgot that the chair was there, so when I bent over with great energy and enthusiasm, I slammed my head down on the chairback. Luckily, it only caught me on the forehead - no blood at all, just a very embarassing bruise right between my eyes, effectively linking my eyebrows into a monobrow. No matter how you cut your bangs, you can't hide a monobrow.

Actually, now that I think of it, I've done other stupid things in the name of fitness, but maybe it's best if I attempt to keep a little bit of mystique. But I will say this; if I win the Wii, I WILL post pictures of whatever injuries I give myself while using it. That should be good for a laugh. Or stitches.

Labels: size 12, wii