In tandem with my adventure-filled walks [otherwise known as The Walking D(r)ead], today I tried water walking.
The main difference? You don’t sweat! Or, at least, you don’t know if you sweat, because it’s awfully hard to separate pool water from the water your body’s secreted. I know. Gross.
The other difference? I also feel sore all over–definitely more of a full-body workout, given the arm and leg resistance. Water, it turns out, resists almost as much as my kids when I tell them to practice piano.
You know those nightmares where you are being chased by zombies and there’s no Daryl there to save you? When it kinda feels like you are running through molasses? That’s what water walking is like; that, with a twist of fashion-nightmare elements thrown in. To water walk, 0ne must don a large, unflattering floaty belt in hospital-scrubs blue. All I needed were the blow-up “muscle” floaties with pictures of Mickey Mouse wrapped around my arms, and I would’ve resembled Benjamin Button at some point during his backward aging process.
Still, there’s no sweating involved. That’s a deal-maker. I am only willing to sweat in certain situations, and pretty much all of them involve my celebrity crushes.
Each day of 2014, I’m
forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.