Exercising – Sage Telling Your Story

November 6, 2015February 26, 2019

Exercising, by Ricky

For my entire life, exercising is an exercise in futility. Futile because I never liked to “exercise”. In elementary school I enjoyed playing at recess. Even the time labeled Physical Fitness was just a fancy term for recess.

When I arrived in High School, recess became Physical Education or PE for short. After a few pushups, sit-ups, deep knee bends, toe touching, and trunk twisting to warm up (all of which I detested), the rest of the period was nothing more than organized recess in which we played softball, football, basketball or ran laps on the track. The best part of PE recess was the mandatory gang showers at the end of the period. Apparently, most of the teachers objected to smelly adolescent boys and girls in their classrooms. Perhaps the sweat laden pheromones were too much for teachers to handle professionally by causing them too much temptation.

Another exercise in futility was resisting the temptations created by a female teacher who would wear loosely fitting low-cut blouses while sitting on the front edge of her desk lecturing and frequently leaning forward exposing the beginning of her bosoms and a bit of frilly bra or slip. My desk was directly in front of her desk. It was hard for this 14-year old to concentrate and pay attention with all that exposure staring me in the face.

Speaking of hard, I always had to leave the room with my book binder held in front of my crotch for a few minutes. Alas poor me. It was futile to even fantasize a breach of the “look but don’t touch a teacher” rule because, she never said anything to encourage or tease out a fantasy or a grope. Alas, none of the male teachers did either. If any teacher had done so, I willingly would have given in and had real sex at a much earlier age.

Yet another reason exercise was futile became apparent as I joined the Air Force to avoid the draft when I flunked out of my first year of college. Whatever benefits I gained from all those recesses, PE classes, and basic training were completely lost when the Air Force assigned me to a desk job. At the time, there was no exercise requirement so all that “benefit” wore off and the time I spent playing at exercising was wasted on me.

About the Author

I was born in June of 1948 in Los Angeles, living first in Lawndale and then in Redondo Beach. Just prior to turning 8 years old in 1956, I began living with my grandparents on their farm in Isanti County, Minnesota for two years during which time my parents divorced.

When united with my mother and stepfather two years later in 1958, I lived first at Emerald Bay and then at South Lake Tahoe, California, graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966. After three tours of duty with the Air Force, I moved to Denver, Colorado where I lived with my wife and four children until her passing away from complications of breast cancer four days after the 9-11 terrorist attack.

I came out as a gay man in the summer of 2010. I find writing these memories to be therapeutic.

My story blog is TheTahoeBoy.Blogspot.com

September 28, 2015February 26, 2019

Exercising, by Will Stanton

Exercise – – – hmm. Let me think. I guess I’ll start with the many forms of exercise that I did when I was young a few decades ago. Let me count the ways.

Let’s see. When I was a kid and for many years, I engaged in summer games of very competitive badminton and croquet in our side yard.

I swam a lot and rode my bike. I canoed on a nearby lake and at some camps. I did a lot of hiking in the woods and through the hills. I played the normal neighborhood sports like driveway-basketball and games of “horse.” Sometimes, we hiked up onto a hillside and played hide-and-seek or combat. In elementary school, we did kickball and softball. On a few occasions, I tried horseback riding. I tried a little bit of tennis, but it didn’t take.

Around 17 and 18, I did a little Korean and Japanese judo. I took a couple of lessons in Aikido. I might have stayed with judo, but I soon discovered karate; and that interested me a lot more.

Starting at age 18, I did 43 years of intense Japanese karate. That included a lot of self-training. I would get up at 5:30, go to the golf course and run several miles. Then I would do roundhouse kicks the length of a football field, side-thrust kicks back, then front-snap kicks, lunge punches, the whole shebang of techniques. Plus, I did extra training at the gym with other karate students. Of course, I could have spent my time doing something of greater long-term importance, but I did skip three belt-grades on my first karate examination. Karate probably was the most intense and prolonged form of exercise that I ever did.

I still do a little bit of swimming, whenever the pool is open, that is. I occasionally walk in the park. But generally, my exercise consists mainly of getting up out of the recliner in front of the TV, or the recliner in front of my computer, or getting up from the supper table. Yes, I do a lot of social eating, which may exercise the jaw, but that probably is not the way to lose weight.

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories. I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones. Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group. I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

September 8, 2015February 26, 2019

Exercising, by Ray S

What is fun about exercise? For me the word is synonymous with work. There is a sense of accomplishment, if not survival when you might have completed a certain number of circuits around the high school track—but then there is the end result—exhaustion.

Jumping Jacks, etc. were okay when you are all lined up doing the same movements, but then there is the really hard work of push-ups.

As a developing pubescent wimp, if anyone had told had told me how the weight room would have given me that classic Greek Apollo physic when I was old enough to be intrigued with other Greek gods’ bodies, I probably would have been so narcissistic I would beat the gym doors down to get started on that evasive body beautiful. Alas, I never met a barbell that I liked.

Team sports were my 6th grade downfall and ultimate lifetime avoidance of participating or watching. How validating it was to be one of the boys on the team, until my total lack of eye-hand-arms and -legs coordination disqualified me, especially after consistently striking out. Forget football; basketball—dribbling impossible. Wrestling and boxing meant you could get hurt and besides they were not only competitive, they were too aggressive for the timid soul.

It seemed I was destined to be like Ferdinand the Bull, all he could do was lie around and smell the roses. Without rigorous exercising how was I to become a man so that when the time became evident I might lie with a woman or better yet in the Biblical sense “lie with a man”?

Looking back on so many physical education failures I wonder that I have managed, in spite of myself, to live this long, loved so much, slept with wonderful people, and can still get up out of bed each day and put one foot in front of the other. Perhaps that might qualify as heavy duty passive exercising.