When I was little, I was an exercising fool.
Yep. And I don't mean that I ran around a lot outside. Okay, I did run around a lot outside. But that wasn't the coup de gras of my exercising.
I did calisthenics. A. LOT.
My sister Jennilyn and I devised a whole routine. We did leg lifts, scissor legs, back bends, and lots more. I can't remember exactly because it's been like, I don't know, THIRTY years. Suffice it to say, we probably invented Pilates.
But here's the real secret. We shared a bedroom and we did these exercises at night. In bed. You know, when we were supposed to be sleeping.
We both had a favorite exercise. I don't think it has an official name, but let me explain it to you. Our beds had headboards. We would lay in bed, reach up and grab the headboard. Then we pulled our legs up and put our feet up to where our hands were. We then would do gravity-defying crunches--basically we pulled our butts up as close to our feet as we could. As kids, this was easy. I remember trying it as a teenager and finding it nearly impossible.
So, a couple of days ago, Jennilyn (my co-exerciser) called. She had been reading to Malena at bedtime a few nights earlier. Malena was laying in bed, enjoying the story. Partway through the book, she reached up and caught hold of her headboard. Minutes later, she pulled her feet up to meet her hands. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what happened next. Yep. She began doing the infamous crunches. Jennilyn stopped reading and asked Malena what she was doing. "I'm exercising," Malena replied. Duh, Mom!