It's All About the Core

In a year where I have completed the renovation of my New York apartment, the ongoing fix of myself continues.  And doesn't appear to be stopping any time soon.

A while back, I wrote here on these blog pages of the physical therapy I underwent in order to stave off knee replacement surgery.  That morphed into a tryout session with a personal trainer.  Yeah, I know.  How Hollywood could I get?  Well, this might rank as one of the top ten decisions of my life.

I am still at it with Jeff.  Two hours a week and apparently that's all you really need.  I look at all those yokels running around the neighborhood on weekend mornings.  One mile after another as their knees withstand pavement pounding after pavement pounding.  In the times of my life where I was heavily into exercise, I foolishly thought that the more you do, the better it is.  Not so, says Jeff.  This stuff is worthless unless it's part of a very finite regimen.  And it only works if you do it correctly.

Take, for instance, the exercise in the snapshot above.  A side plank, which I have learned is perhaps the perfect calisthenic to do if you want to strengthen your core.  Oh, your core is the area of body between your chest and your legs.    The side plank is your key.  Master that and you rock your world.

Who knew?

Well, the first week that this stunt was presented to me, I scoffed at it.  And I held the position on each side for a grand total of...ten seconds.

Ouch.

Well,  I have no idea what has happened in my world, but my ability to do this has expanded.  Last Monday, I was timed at one minute and five seconds. 

Ouch?  Not so much. 

To me, the differences in my life are subtle.  But, people who have not seen me in a while remark that I no longer seem to favor my right leg.  The guy with season tickets behind me at Dodger Stadium said that I look different.  Another friend described me as appearing "bouncy."  My trek up and down the stairs at the ballpark is fluid and sprightly.

All of a sudden, it's not just my NY kitchen and bathroom that are brand spanking new. 

So, given the wonderful and almost Lourdes-miraculous benefits of training, you can imagine my horror when Jeff tells me his business is taking off and he's going to shuttle some of his clients to a new associate.  Heck, I've been dumped before but never by somebody who is teaching me the proper way to do a wood chop on the weight machine.  He says that he is surprised that his clients are actually upset that they might not be working directly with him in the future.  To me, he has no idea just how good he is.  He's done a magical job learning my body.  How do I entrust this lump of plasma to somebody else?

Moving forward, we will work something out and I may train with his associate one day and Jeff another.  But, I'm not quitting by any stretch.

And, oh, yeah, the post-session stretching is great, too. 

Dinner last night:  Salami sandwich and side salad.