There are few things I dislike more than walking. One of those things happens to be Kegels. Oh dear God, how I loathe them.
The other day I decided to see if two wrongs could possibly make a right, and so I combined these least favourite things into one activity I coined “The Kegel Pole-ka™.” Surprisingly, it’s not nearly as fun as it sounds. (Trust me.)
The idea is that, as I walk, once I reach a telephone pole I squeeze my abs in and up and attempt1 to do Kegels at the same time. (I am woman. I am nothin’ if not a multi-tasker.) At the next pole I relax and just walk.2 Then I repeat till I want to chew out my own eyeballs for the sheer distraction of it.
So if you see me out walking at a seemingly normal pace but I’m grimacing like I’m in the homestretch of a marathon3, keep in mind that, though you can’t see it, I’m actually trying to pull my jitch4 up to my navel, and my navel up to my cleavage5.
All that squeezing has to be good for something, right?
I’ll keep you posted.
How about you—do you do Kegels faithfully? rarely? ever? Do you not feel the need or (as one character in a book so brilliantly witty is just HAS to be published some day says) can you pretty much drive a Mack truck through there? Do you hate Kegels as much as me?
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1. I say “attempt” because who the hell knows if they’re ever doing the dastardly things right anyway? The best description I ever read was in The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy, by Vicky Iovine: “The way you know if you are doing [Kegels] correctly is you begin to feel anxious and uncomfortable...it makes you feel slightly nervous inside. You can even feel lightheaded.” Enticing, no?
2. Note to self, there are no telephone poles on one side of Macara Street. Holy tight twazzer, Batman!
3. ...or like I discovered Nickelback on my MP3...
4. Props to Brenda D. for introducing me to the BEST. WORD. EVER.
5. A distance that is, of course, shrinking with every passing year. Eventually I’ll have to aim for my chin instead.