So I'm also working out on a regular basis now; I got Gini a workout center a Christmas ago. It was the mid-level model about $400 - but when I went to Sears to pick it up, they were out of stock.
"Pardon me?" I said, raising my eyebrows so high that they became entangled in the fluorescents.
"We're out," they reiterated. "Not in until after Christmas. Would you mind taking the next best model?"
The $700 one? You bet!
So we got a workout center the size of a small jungle gym, which we dutifully assembled in Anchorage. Then we disassembled it. Then we brought it down to Cleveland and put it in our apartment. Then we hauled it over to our house and assembled it.
With effort like that, who needs to work out?
So I've been pumping iron pretty dang goot, and also (and I hesitate to admit this) using the Amazing Ab Roller. It works. Embarassingly so.
But the real exercise is Dance Dance Revolution.
Dance Dance Revolution is a weird arcade game based on dancing that you play with your feet. Basically, music plays - Japanese pop music, mostly Britney Spears knockoffs, 70s disco knockoffs, or light rap - and you stand on a platform with glowing arrows. As the music plays, big arrows pointing in various directions scroll up from the bottom towards the top. As they hit the top, you stomp the appropriate arrow to the beat.
In other words, you're dancing by numbers.
It's pretty simple at first - one, two, three, stomp, one, two, three, stomp - but as the tempo increases and you get to the upper levels, you have to perform acts of pedal dexterity that would make Gene Kelly pop a vein. For an example of truly amazing Dance Dancing, those of you with fast connections check this out.
Gini and I don't do that yet, but here's the thing: It's a videogame. And it's aerobic exercise.
Anyone who knows me knows how I can't stand to lose at videogames.
So Gini and I bought the home version - get a Playstation, pay $39.99 for the game and $75.00 for a pair of home pads (and I'm truly mortified to announce that we went out and bought plastic sheeting and pressboard to customize our pads so they're more like the arcade) - and have been dance dancing every night.
I'm not that good yet, of course. Tonight, while doing double-double Dance Dance with Gini Gini, I discovered that the supposedly "Intermediate" routines that I had spent the better part of three weeks learning to blitz through were "Intermediate Beginner" steps. I accidentally played a real game and my feet damn near flew off at the ankles.
It's stupid, of course. It's a game for young kids, and when we go to the arcade to stomp around like Frankenstein trying to crush a mouse, we look like the elderly amateurs that we are. But when has humiliation ever stopped us from enjoying ourselves?
