Posts Filed Under Sports Shorts

Hip to be Square

posted by Momo Fali on September 28, 2015

Ain’t no party like an 85 year old’s party, ’cause an 85 year old’s party don’t stop!

*screeeeech* *dj takes the needle off the record*

Somewhere between having a boatload of fun this summer and starting my awesome new job (more on that soon but, goodnight Irene, I love it), I fractured my hip.

My doctor thought it was a pinched nerve – and in his defense, so did I – because it felt similar to a pinched nerve I had years ago. He put me on a course of steroids which, ironically, made the fracture LESS likely to heal. All of my theater friends are going to scream because I just used irony incorrectly, but I mean the situational kind and also, I just took a course of steroids so I dare you to tell me I’m doing it wrong.

When the steroids didn’t help, I thought maybe it was a tendon or something related to running, because running hurt bad. So I tried biking, which was even worse and walking hurt most of all. See, there it is again. Irony is that friend who shows up and you think you’ve missed him because he keeps you on your toes and makes life interesting, but a few days later he’s just annoying and he kind of smells like fish.

Anyway, I tried working out the pain and working through the pain and that was just stupid. Which makes me like my friend, Irony. Though that would be a cool name and Irony doesn’t deserve to be called cool. Remember when George on Seinfeld wanted to name his kid “Seven?” That would’ve been a cool name, except it makes me think about Brad Pitt’s wife and her severed head in a box. Other than that? Super cool name.

Finally, my trainer recommended I see a sports medicine doctor, so I got a referral and x-rays and now I can’t really do anything for 4-6 weeks other than expand my waistline. The other option is to go ahead and do stuff and risk breaking my hip and needing a hip replacement at 44 years old. I can exercise my upper body as long as I’m sitting, so I’ve been working on my 12 ounce curls.

The upside is that now I have more time to write. Lucky you. I had to hurt myself in order to have the time to put you through this pain. Ironic, don’t you think?

Way back when, at the beginning of January, my husband had a bright idea for us to complete a 60-day fitness challenge. I drank some of his homemade wine and then agreed.

For 60-days straight, we would work-out every. Single. Day. Then go down to 5 days a week for a while, then 4 days a week for the rest of our lives. Oh, sorry. The. Rest. Of. Our. Lives.

It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve done it. Well, he’s done it and I’ve mostly done it. I missed 2 out of the 4 days when I was in Houston and then I missed another day after I weighed myself, punched the wall and screamed, “What’s the point?”

There have been a couple of times when my work-out consisted of a few sets of lunges and some push-ups and a couple of times when I battled the 14 year old in Just Dance in order to break a sweat, but for the most part…at least 50 of the last 60 days, have been intense; with a lot of strength-training, rowing, boxing, running, swimming, ellipticizing, biking, stepping, and generally wanting to punch my trainer in the face.

Oh, and a boatload of laundry. It’s all “Sweatin’ Because We’re Oldies” up in here.

Have I lost weight? Not much. I try not to weigh myself, because it just makes me angry. I see minor changes, though and I KNOW I’m doing the right thing. And since exercise is a whole lot mental, knowing is at least half the battle.

And, speaking of the correlation between mind and body, I have almost completely weaned myself off my Zoloft during this challenge. That’s a big deal. I’m figuring out how to reduce my anxiety without meds and have only thought I was going to die once. Just once!

I have learned that an easy work-out is not enough to keep the anxiety-demons at bay, it has to be a work-out so hard that I feel like I can’t get through it. It has to be intense and painful for my body in order for my mind to be eased. So, I have that going for me. It’s like I’m Atlas and I have the weight of the world on me and then I do some squats and just toss it; much in the same way that I toss around metaphors.

I can run farther (without stopping!) than I have in about 9 years and when I used to run past the fire station I thought that, for sure, I would see a paramedic come running after me with a defibrillator, but now I just cruise right past and the fire fighters stand outside and cheer for me. That last part may have been a dream, but I’m not sure.

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last 2 months. I now know that it’s possible to live in a perpetual state of pain, that I should never go to the gym without my inhaler, and that I’m pretty damn driven when I actually put my mind to something.

Mostly, I’ve learned that drinking my husband’s homemade wine might cause me to make ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decisions that actually end up benefiting me.  So bottoms up, people. Bottoms up.

Let’s Get Dirty!

posted by Momo Fali on February 22, 2013

Last month my husband and I started an intense fitness regimen with a personal trainer that includes strength training, interval cardio training, and one heck of lot of lunges. I’ve lost five whole pounds.

But, weight schmeight, what matters most is that I’M DOING IT and I feel good doing it. My pants are looser, my energy levels are higher, and for the first time in my life I can do a push-up. One. Push-up. Progress, people.

I’m no dummy, though. I know that if progress is slow I might get discouraged so I decided that I needed a goal to push me forward and, as always, I like my goals to be something fun. Really, I like everything to be fun. What? There will be lots of laughs? What time should I be there? I’ll bring the beer.

That’s why my next fitness goal involves laughs, beer, and a lot of mud.

I’m joining Team Pretty Muddy, a women’s-only, obstacle-course mud run, that will be stirring up a big mess in Columbus on September 14th!

With architectural obstacles, lots of mud and, what they describe as, an “Epic Finish Line Party” (Entertainment, music, drinks & celebration galore), this is just the way I’d like to show how fit I’ve become. Plus, I still have six months to work on my upper-arm strength. I’ll bet I can do seven push-ups by then!

Won’t you join me? Let’s get dirty! Register now to get $10 off!

A Torn Uvula – NSFQ (Not Suitable for the Queasy)

posted by Momo Fali on February 7, 2013

The Scene: 8th Grade Girls vs. Moms Basketball Game, Sometime Before I Did a Deep-Lunge and Traveled at the Same Time

The Culprit: Happy New Year Cardboard Horn for Use in Cheering for Mom’s Team

The Victim: My 10 Year-Old Son, Previously of Putting-His-Teeth-Through-His-Chin Fame and Known for Stopping a Skateboard with His Face

The Incident: A Fall While Holding the Horn in His Mouth, and a Traumatic Injury to the Uvula

The Result: Advil for Both of Us and an Extra Serving of Zoloft for Mom