Why Push-Ups?

Push-ups are my go-to exercise.  Full-on, properly executed, not girlie-girl form.  I can drop and give you 20 + 1 several times over.  Every other day I'm hitting 126 (number divisible by three are my thing and would require their own entry to explain) spread over the course of the 24-hours: morning, afternoon, and night.   They work large muscle groups in a short amount of time with great results.  When there's no time for anything else, squeezing them in encourages endorphins and a sense of instant accomplishment.  Special equipment or workout clothes or gyms . . . none of them are required.  Gas station, rest room, kitchen, living room, hotels, motels, yes, even the Holiday Inn -- they are all appropriate venues for this gravity-fighting move. 

My push-up compulsion began way back in the 5th grade.  We lived in Salem, Oregon.  In P.E. class, the push-up and sit-up competition was in full swing.  Well, it was really more of a fitness test but I was competing against myself  . . . and, if truth be told, Cindy Kowolski.  Where I was a mousy brunette of average height and possessed a slightly heavier build, Cindy was blond, petite, firm, and very strong.  She performed every physical action with speed and exuded effortless athletic grace.  I was in awe of her ability and envious of her body as my self-loathing toward my own body had taken root.  And, I yearned to be better than her in the fitness contest.  Always, I was a close second and had to exert tremendous effort to be thus placed.  She ran like the wind, too, whereas I ran like I was winded.   If I could just beat her at her own game, bragging rights and self-satisfaction would be mine.

What I recall is a series of mental snapshots.  The two of us as neck and neck as we could be, given our disparity in builds, crunching our way through sit-ups and groaning with each push-up, me just a count or two behind.  To be fair, I did have to travel further with my added height than did she.  That's what I told myself for years after the fact: she was shorter and thus closer to the ground, so she didn't have to work as hard.  So, really, I was the stronger girl.  I lost that day.  It was a crushing blow.  But we shook hands and even played dodgeball together later that week.  Life does go on in public school.

I decided then that I would one day be able to pump out 42 push-ups at one time. 

Well, I have.  Now, I generally stick with sets of 21 to 24 because of elbow problems I developed after adding military-style push-ups to my regime.  It's a point of pride for me that I stuck with them all these years because I really don't like them.  I was even RESTRICTED from doing push-ups and sit-ups for a time because my mom worried they might make me too boyish and I was a tad bit compulsive about them.


But, I like what they do for me.  I've given up on beating Cindy Kowolski.  Have you seen the guns on Kelly Rippa?  Plus, she said to a live audience of which I was a part that she could probably beat anyone in a push-up contest.  Man!  What's with these petite blond strong-types anyway?  Someone has to take them down a notch.

And I'm willing to try one more time.  Oh, Kelly?!