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| Not me. Or Mii. |
My Wii Fit (Plus) and I need to talk.
Actually, it may be better if someone else spoke to him. (Her? Probably “her.” No one condescends quite like a woman.)
I decided to hop up on the ol’ Wii balance board yesterday- with Nora in tow. (Side note- try working out with a toddler if you ever want to really feel like you’re living the good life.)
Right off the bat, the Wii’s all like- Oh HI, Keely. Been a little too busy for daily workouts? I responded that I’ve been too busy for daily showers AND she should feel lucky that I’m squeezing in a workout between liverwurst sandwiches at all. They are not programmed to receive sarcasm, however (regardless of the inherent truth.) But boy can they dish it out.
“Seen P.J. lately?”
“Yep. We high-five before bed.”
“I haven’t seen him in a month…how’s he looking these days?”
Choosing the on-screen option for ‘more toned,’ I remarked that P.J. had been training for various races.
I swear to God the thing smirked. “Well, I suppose anything’s possible,” she shrugged. THAT put me in the mood for a good workout. Insult my husband!
It then asked me if I’d like to do my weigh-in. No, thank you. I really don’t need a cruel piece of machinery documenting my slow descent into obesity. For real- they have a weight option of whether or not you’re holding your dog. But pregnancy? Impossible to chart. So I’ve been refusing weigh-ins. And it’s making the Wii Fit console antsy. I can tell. And it feels good.
After I [randomly] selected various workouts to be mashed together (totaling half an hour), the program paused to say- “Whoa. That certainly is a LOT.”
WHICH IS IT, Wii Fit Plus? Am I a lazy heifer or am I gonna keel over during my Sun Salutation? ‘Cause the ten minutes you programmed aren’t gonna even break a sweat, nor will they begin to decrease the poundage you’re clearly jonesing to document! So I clicked Yes, Continue. THAT’S RIGHT.
Onto more First World Problems. Don’t you hate it when the Wii Fit graphics don’t quite match up in real time to your HD TV? (I know.) Thusly, I’m throwing punches and the thing is berating me, asking if I’m still there or not.
We moved onto hula hooping. At this point, Nora was no longer content to dance along with the grating soundtrack, nor was it enough to merely laugh at the weirdo moves her mother was attempting. So I fake hula-hooped while holding a toddler. (Now THERE’S a workout. Betcha didn’t know you could rock the triceps in that one.)
A few exercises later, Nora had decided that the room had had enough. She pressed the Wii’s Off button and closed the doors of the TV cabinet, saying “Bye bye, show.” And it’s hard to argue with that kind of logic.
So then we did that calorie-scorcher called Lie On The Floor And Put Blankets Over One’s Head.
I’m feeling pretty svelte already. Don’t be jealous…this once a month workout lifestyle isn’t for everyone. But I’m still just a normal gal.
I put on my third-day-in-a-row sweatpants one leg at a time, just like everyone else.
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