Daddypult 

On Mother’s Ssy, my son and I got to clowning around. My wife was out visiting friends, so it was just the two of us. Naturally, we wrestled. And by “wrestled” I meant “I got to n hands and knees on my bed while he jumped in me”. That sort of thing.

At one point I grabbed him, curled him over my head, and rolled backwards to slam him on the bed. I may have shouted “Daddy Super-Atomic Back-Breajer” as well, since I was huge into pro wrestling as a teenager. His response, in true six-year-old fashion, was “again!”

So I did it again.

And again.

And again.

I don’t know exactly how many times we did this ridiculous thing, although my son tried to commit me to doing it “one hundred one million” times. I know I didn’t manage that many.

So what’s this got to do with anything?  Just this:  my personal trainer says that play is often the best exercise. It makes you get out and work a bunch of muscles and do aerobic conditioning, all at once. 

After an hour of slinging my 60 pound son over my head like a catapult, I’m inclined to agree.

Oh, and I lost 3.2 pounds last week!  Yay me!

Kidercize 

Know what this thing is?


If you said “some sort of water main”, then you’re wrong. Well, I mean, you’re right.  Obviously. But it’s a playground, too. I have this on good authority from my son, who wanted me to play with him on it.

Said play consisted of running up to it and leaping off it, then hitting the ground and rolling to a stop. I didn’t do that, obviously – I’ve made a lot of progress, but I’m still a large man with sore knees.  But I did chase after him, which meant running a lot. A whole lot, because he’s 6 and active and wants me to play with him.

Yes. He is a good workout partner.

I Expected More Walking

I took the day off from work today to go on a field trip with my son’s kindergarten class. To Build-A-Bear at a nearby mall. No, I don’t quite get it either – all the field trips I remember going on were to museums, or zoos, or plays, or the like. But there you are, and the kids had a great time.

Me, I was just confused. I was expecting more walking, or something. Not an hour of standing around. But my son adored having me along, and that’s what counted the most.

I still hit my walking goal, though. Knocked it out by covering 1.73 miles in a 32 minute session of the Decoy Duty mission for Zombies Run. Thanks to me, Abel Township now has a hospital!


I also managed to hit my calorie budget, despite my field trip lunch being at McDonald’s (and a double quarter pounder with cheese, and large fries). It just goes to show what’s possible when you plan ahead and don’t snack, right?

Next time, though, I need to try not to need to walk so much in the evening to hit goal. I get up at 3:30 am – walking at 7 at night is late.

15,131

I wasn’t successful with my calorie budget yesterday, not by a long shot.  But I did hit my walking goal and then some.  15,131 steps according to my FitBit, which it calculates out to be 7.63 miles.  So, yeah.  I feel pretty good about that.

Part of the secret is the new “family walk” program my wife and I have instituted.  Every day, after dinner, we’re going to pack up our son and our dog and go for a walk.  Some days it’ll be around the neighborhood, and some days it’ll be at a park.  Yesterday, we went to Woodland Mound, and had some drama.  See, my son wanted to walk our dog – something we were hesitant about because the dog is not the best with strangers.  He’s a 17 pound Cocker Spaniel mix of some sort with four teeth left in his 12ish year old head, but he thinks he’s a wolf and barks and lunges at strangers.  But, since there was nobody around, we let my son take him and run to the nearest tree and back.

Unfortunately, my dog got all excited and tried to run around my son.  This resulted in him tripping and scraping his knee.  He was fine, more or less, until he saw the blood oozing out.  Then he panicked and started crying and wanting to go home.  So, while mom held him and comforted him, it fell to me to walk back to the car and fetch the first aid kit.  An alcohol wipe and a bandage and a couple of hugs later, and we were back to walking.

Crisis averted.

Not A Bad Day, All Things Considered

Well, that seems to have been taken care of.  My son’s feeling a lot better, now – it was some sort of stomach bug and, by the time I’d normally have picked him up from school he was doing great.  Full of energy, not really understanding why his food was limited to toast and crackers, and wanting to play.

Honestly, it wasn’t a bad time yesterday.  Except for all the effort I had to put into cleaning the carpet, that is.  We watched Godzilla movies, and cuddled with the dog, and played with his toys, and had a dad/son bonding day.  If it had been a scheduled vacation day, instead of him being sick, it would have been enormous fun.

Also, I hit my calorie budget!  2,000, out of a 2,500 goal.  No, I didn’t get my exercise or walking in, but I had reasons (sick child).  But I’ll focus on the things I did manage, thank you very much.

Quality Time

My son and I get home yesterday, and we’re going through our normal routine.  Get the dog out, do his homework, that kind of stuff.  Afterwards, he asks me if I’ll play with him.  “Not yet,” I say.  “I’ve got to do my exercises first.”  He nods at that, because it’s something he knows that I do.  So I go back in my bedroom and change into my sweats, and he grabs some of his Legos and sits on the couch and starts playing.  Then, as I’m pulling on my t-shirt, he knocks on the door and comes in.  “I’m going to play back here, so you don’t have to be alone.”

I don’t mind telling you I melted.  Just a little.  But then, he starts getting interested in what I’m doing.  “Are you going to do push-ups?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“Are you going to do backwards push-ups?”

“…I don’t know what those are, son.”  So he demonstrates by lying flat on his back, bracing his hands on the ground, and using his arms to lift his back and shoulders off the ground.  Honestly, it looks like a legitimate exercise.  Then he helped me count repetitions, and asked me if he could help put my weights (10 pound hand weights) away, and generally hung around and did things with me.

Yeah.  It was a good day.

Kickball!

Yesterday, I finally remembered to do something I’ve been promising my son I’d do with him for nearly six months.  Honestly, I feel a little bad about it.  It’s one of those things where he asks if we can go and do it, and I tell him we’ll do it later, and then we both forget about it for a week.

That thing was taking a ball into the tennis court at our condo complex and playing… kickball?  “Mysonball”, more accurately.  Because the game involved him throwing the ball over the net, and hitting the fence, and declaring he had scored a point.  And then I had to kick it back.  We went at this for about 20 minutes, with me kicking the ball and him running after it and me walking to go get it when he threw it back, and he laughed so hard he nearly fell over.  The final score was “all the points!” to “eleventy hojillion and three”.

He scored “all the points!”, so he won.  But I had a great time with my son, so I think I won too.