Being unable to breathe equals being unable to exercise, so for the last four weeks I haven't been to the gym, which means Babygirl hasn't been to the gym either. We went together Saturday and clambered onto a pair of elliptical machines.
One of the side effects of prednisone is weight gain. It's not a problem for me, but it's a struggle for Babygirl. The double whammy of this drug is that it also causes muscle loss, which is more of a problem for me than for her. But take me out for a month, and her for more like a year, and you get some pretty sad results. We were both gasping and sweating after twenty minutes. She did a mile and a half. I did two miles. A month ago I was doing four miles in thirty minutes.
Sunday she wasn't up for going, but I went to the pool. I managed thirty lengths in about as many minutes. A month ago I was doing more than twice that. A mile is seventy-six lengths, an I could do it in about forty minutes. Damn. And the removal of that beta blocker migraine-preventer medication? One of the OTHER things that does is keeps your heart rate down. So my heart was racing like I was being chased by a mugger with a knife.
Well.....I'm stubborn. I know I'm not going to die unless I STOP doing this, so I went back yesterday (elliptical, thirty minutes, three miles) and today (pool, fifty-four lengths, thirty minutes) and, wait...what?
Seriously, it took four days to get my heart to stop pounding and let me do a reasonable pace at swimming. If it weren't for the general 'out-of-shape-ness' of my arms I could have finished the extra twenty lengths for the mile in another fifteen minutes. And four days of serious exercise did more to finish off my asthma attack than my inhalers have done.
I should have gone back a week sooner.