Stress, Zen Laundry and Core Conditioning

OK, I don't know who invented the front-load washer, but can I tell you how much I sort of hate it?

But before I do, let me explain my love-hate relationship with laundry.

I didn't know how to do laundry until I moved to college. My mom never asked us to do it as teenagers (I know! What was she thinking?), so my first encounter with it was in the basement of Towers Hall at UW-Eau Claire. I don't remember it being a big deal. I eventually moved to a house in Whitewater as I finished up school and just took my laundry home on weekends to do myself. By the time I moved to my first "official grown up apartment" in Janesville, it was the purchase of my first washer and dryer that made me feel like an adult.

In that upstairs apartment, the laundry room was located in a little area between the kitchen and the back stairway/second egress. Because it was a room that wasn't intended to be a real room ... it was really just a build-out of a back porch ... the foundation wasn't exactly rock solid. So every single time I ran it, on every single spin cycle, the floor would start to rock and that would throw the drum out of balance and the washing machine would walk across the floor toward the back door, stretching the water hose dangerously close to disconnecting territory. So I'd have to literally stand out there and hold the machine in place during the spin cycle. It was hilarious.

When I bought a little ranch house, I was actually thrilled that the laundry hook-ups were in the basement. Concrete floor = no more traveling washing machine!

By the time we built this house, I thought it was time to upgrade. So, front-load we went.

I can't tell you how many times I wish I'd made another decision.

And I need you to tell me if it's just me or if you have the same problem.

Every time I move clothes from the washer to the dryer ... and I mean EVERY SINGLE TIME ... at least one article falls on the floor. It's usually far more than one item. In fact, I'd say my "average" is about 5 items per load.

Oftentimes its socks. But pants and workout tights and leggings also present a serious problem as the legs get all corkscrewed around each other, making it all but impossible to pull something out of the hole cleanly. So you end up dragging crap along with them and those hangers-on end up on the laundry room floor.

Clean laundry on the floor is not my idea of smurfy.

And every time ... EVERY SINGLE TIME ... I get pissed off. Frequently, I curse at the wet clothes. I yell at them out loud, "Why, WHY can't you just come out of the machine without landing on the #*&)))@  floor?"

It frustrates me,  raising my stress level for no good reason.

So, I've decided to take another tactic. I just don't need more stress than I already have. Breathe in. Breathe out. Ooooohhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmm.

From here on out, I'm choosing to view the clean laundry on the floor as a welcomed opportunity for a little extra workout.

I'm going to do squats or lunges to pick up said articles of clothing, holding my core tight, squeezing my hamstrings, glutes and quads on the way down and the way back up. I'm going to be grateful that I have the opportunity to sneak a few reps in.

And when someone asks how I got such a cute, high, tight butt, I'll tell them, "I have a front-load washer."