When was the last time you played? I remember when I was a child, my favorite activity was playing. I loved the playground close to my house. It wasn’t a large area, but it had the basics: swings, monkey bars, and slide. Nothing fancy, like some of the combination jungle gym sets you see in parks today, but just as much fun.I used to have contests with my friends to see who could swing the highest. I used to look up at the sky and try to imagine touching the clouds. If it was late at night, I used to looks for planets and star constellations and wondered if there was life on distant planets. Another favorite swing activity was sitting on the swing and twirling in a circle until your feet couldn’t touch the ground, then spinning like a top to unwind. I used to love to make myself dizzy.On the monkey bars, I used to swing hand over hand across the twenty-foot span, turn around and swing back to the beginning. My arms were strong back then. I remember wrapping my legs between two bars and hanging upside-down, then swinging my arms back and forth to catch my friend’s hands. You get an entirely different perspective on the world when you’re looking at it upside-down.I loved to go down the slide, too – feet first or hands first, it didn’t matter - but the slide was metal and hot in the summer, so I had to wear long pants to protect my legs and to get some speed. Sometimes we’d bring a hose to the playground, attach it to a nearby spigot, and let the water pour down the slide – our own primitive waterslide.Playing today is a lot different than it was a few decades ago. Now, kids play Nintendo and other computer games. As parents, we enroll our children in organized sports, so they get some exercise, but do they get the opportunity to engage in some carefree play? As adults, do we give ourselves the opportunity to play? Some may say that we have our tennis, softball, or golf games, but do sports engage your imagination? We attend concerts, stage plays, and professional sporting events, but do these activities contribute to our overall health?This morning I took a walk along the beach for my daily exercise, but I took a few minutes for some play too. There’s a playground next to the beach, filled with sand. There are three sling seats and three baby swings, a jungle gym with a slide, and a couple of horses on heavy duty springs that rock back and forth. I found myself gravitate to a swing, pulling it back as far as I could, then I jumped on and started pumping my feet. I couldn’t get as high as I used to, but the ocean breeze mussed my hair and the water smelled salty. Seagulls feasted on yesterday’s trash. I watched some local surfers and remembered how important it is to play. Play for the fun of it. Play for the health of it. Have you had your playtime today?

Posted: July 3rd, 2007 under exercise.
Comments: none

Remember when you were a child, learning to ride a two-wheeler. First your parents probably added training wheels. As your balance improved, you felt more confident in your ability to ride. Then the training wheels were removed. You faltered a bit, but eventually got the hang of it. You were off and running, or should I say riding – down the block, around the neighborhood, to school and back.One day, you didn’t notice that rock on the sidewalk and you fell. You scraped your knee and elbow something fierce. You tore your jeans, your leg was bloody. The chain fell off the gear. You couldn’t ride your bike home even if you wanted to, so you walked home, pushing your bicycle along.When you got home, your mother cleaned and bandaged your wounds, your father fixed your bicycle. Maybe you were a little afraid to get on the bike again, but a few days later, your friend knocked on the door, straddling her new pink Schwinn, and invited you to the movies. That was all the encouragement you needed. You went to the garage, got back on your transportation and rode.That, in a nutshell, is living your life with heart disease.If you can’t see the similarities, let’s look at you now. You’ve had a heart attack and the doctor sends you home on medication. Maybe he gives you instructions to exercise, maybe he doesn’t. In either case, you need to get your strength back. You enroll in a heart rehabilitation program.The program is your training wheels. I know there are several types of rehab out there, so I’ll keep this explanation simple. Your rehab appointments consist of walking on a treadmill for 20-30 minutes, three times a week, with sticky leads plastered on your chest attached to a heart monitor. The first week you go, you still feel exhausted from your trauma, but you go because you know you have to if you want to be well again.The next week your child is sick and you need to stay home with him. You miss rehab thinking you can walk around the house and get twenty minutes of exercise. Maybe. As the weeks pass, you attend the rest of your rehab sessions and are getting the hang of what it means to exercise a minimum of 20-30 minutes a day, three times a week. Practice. The big day comes – your last day of rehab. If it’s like mine, you get a certificate saying you’ve completed the program – my rehab was a bit more extensive than aerobic exercise, but I’ll leave that discussion for another day. :-)Now you are on your own two wheelers, your feet. You make plans with your friends, your dog, your husband, your children, to walk every day. Practice. You get lots of support in the beginning, but eventually, your friends, husband and children will have other things to do. Maybe the dog stays with you, since that’s what dogs like to do, but you walk alone. Practice. Maybe it gets boring, so you venture out and take different routes around the neighborhood. Practice. Maybe the dog sees a rabbit or a cat and starts chasing after it. You hold on to the leash, but he pulls you into a run.Your heart starts pounding, you tire quickly, your arm starts to tingle. Oh. My. God. You think you are having another heart attack. You reach for your nitroglycerin, but can’t find it. Then you remember you left it in your wallet, sitting on the kitchen countertop. You pull out you cell phone and call 9-1-1. Always carry your nitro and cell phone, ladies. The ambulance is on it’s way. You call your husband. He’ll meet you at the emergency room.Your symptoms were mild by comparison to the first episode, as a heart sister of mine likes to call them. You stabilize, go home, and rest. You’re afraid to go for another walk alone, but the next day, you tie on your walking shoes and get back out there. You practice, practice, practice. Day, after day, after day. Life does gets better with practice.

Posted: June 24th, 2007 under exercise.
Comments: none