Yesterday, G turned seven months old, and I was rushed into signing up for a new work-out program.
No, I wasn't manipulated into joining a tough and buff gym where all of the men strut around wearing speedos and asking for directions to the weight room while flexing their guns. No, no. In fact, this new regiment is going to be worse than the works outs the folks do on the Biggest Loser. (I never had viewed this show until I joined the snowbirds in Florida. Apparently, this show is quite the watercooler talk among the seniors. I had to watch so I would have something to talk about at Curves and at the pool.) This workout is going to be way more intense; this work out mandates that I have the energy to furiously chase a curious baby boy who has just learned to crawl all around the house and discover many new and exciting "toys."
Sure, G had become increasingly mobile in the last few months before he reached this milestone. He had been rolling across the room to get to the things he wanted; he had been scooting on his belly; he had been lunging forward while rocking on his hands and knees. But he had been stuck in reverse. And those of us who drive a car know how much harder it is to navigate toward the places we need to go when we're in reverse. Now that G has learned to put his little booty into first gear, I've been chasing him all around Grandma and Papa's condo. So far, he's traveled clear across the living room and tried to enter the Lanai so he could hang out with the dog. He tries to climb mount coffee table at every available opportunity. He's also tried to play with "Henry," the golfer statue that stands about two feet tall in the living room. The bamboo plant in the corner has also gotten a lot of loving from crawling G, too; I'm not sure what the appeal is -- it's not nearly as cool looking as Henry the golfer who has a golf ball and leans on his golf club. I can assure you that I probably appreciate and pay more attention to my grandparent's furnishings than they ever have/will because I get to scurry over to each one tons of times during the day to shoo Gabe away. Aside from allowing me a new appreciation for the decorations at Gabe level, I also have to believe that I'm burning at least the calories of one small ice cream blizzard desert from Dairy Queen on a daily basis. Currently, I have figured that chasing after G burns about 800 additional calories every day. I also estimate that with every additional decoration G finds, I can factor in 100 more calories that will be burned chasing him away from said items.
Today, G found a basket full of sea shells on the the lower shelf of the end table, so tomorrow I'll easily be up to 900 additional calories burned.
I was also thinking that I probably should go into business with the advent of G's crawling. I thought I would offer a deal to my friends and family members who are trying to get into shape for summer: Come to my place, watch G for awhile and burn about 400 calories chasing after him for free! That's right, I'm not charging membership dues for Club Crawling, so sign up today! We have lots of spots open, and I'm sure you'll notice that your pants will fit better after just seven or so work outs. You'll burn even more calories if you have G over to your house during your work-out time and you happen to have lots of really cool things at G's eye level. No need to thank me, really. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't let you in on my new weight-loss program?