Wiiiiiiiiiiiii

I am so impressed to have a comment left by the great Mrs. G of Derfwad Manor that I am replying to her with a new post! She wonders if I think the Wii is worth it, and honestly, a lot of women have asked me this since I got mine this summer.

I have to say it's a resounding YES ~ buying the Wii itself was a big investment ($250 give or take), and then the WiiFit package is another $90. Really, that's quite a bit more than I would normally spend on something electronic that can't create documents for me, but let's face it, I'm not getting any younger, and I have been searching for over three decades to find an exercise program that I can stick with.

You may remember tae kwon do ... that lasted about 6 months. That's actually pretty good for me. I also joined one of those 24-hour gyms where you can go work-out whenever you want ... I paid for the right to exercise for 7 months and actually went twice. Earlier in life I tried yoga classes, aerobics, the YMCA, walking, running (that lasted about 12 minutes), and probably more that I have blocked from my memory.

I have found, much to my delight, that it is much easier to ignore an exercise machine that is a few blocks away, than it is to ignore the system in my own basement. I know that many, many would-be exercisers utilize their home-based exercise equipment to hang clothes on - but the beauty of the Wii is there is nothing that would support anything more than a sock! So I do end up using it for its intended purpose.

Many have asked what's the difference between using the Wii and using an exercise video, and I tell them it's the little people that live in the Wii. They pay attention to when I come down to visit them, and they let me know if I haven't been there enough. They also count my steps, the minutes I am working, they call me on it if I take a break half-way through a program, and they are unfailingly optimistic about my chances for success ... even as they bloat up my little "Mii" and tell me that I am obese (the little Mii gets a shocked look on her face every single time. Like somehow she forgets. Oh, wait, I guess I forget, too.) And every single time I do something well, they cheer for me (and they are discretely silent when I fall off the ski jump or something similarly klutzy.)

That would be really embarassing in a class, but in the privacy of the basement ... who doesn't like to be cheered for?

So yeah, Mrs. G., it's worth it.