MSI Press Blog

  People envy me. I don’t sweat. Not a drop. I can run, jump, shadow box, and bosun-ball my way through a workout, and my skin stays dry. But my trainer Brittany? She didn’t celebrate. She said: “No, no—not good. You’re not exchanging fluids.” She was right. 🔥 What Happens When You Don’t Sweat? Sweating isn’t just about cooling off. It’s how the body: Regulates temperature Releases heat Balances electrolytes Signals exertion limits Without sweat, heat builds up. I turn bright red after 10–20 minutes of intense exertion. Brittany sees it and sends me to hydrate and rest. Because even if I look composed, my body is waving a red flag. 🧬 The Science Behind It This condition is called anhidrosis (or hypohidrosis if partial). It’s rare, but not unheard of. Causes range from genetics to nerve or skin conditions. The danger isn’t vanity—it’s overheating , especially during cardio or high-intensity work. 🧘‍♀️ Ninja Strategy: Cooling Without Sweat Hydrate early and of...

  I don’t sweat. Not a drop. My skin stays dry even when my heart’s pounding and my face turns cherry red. People envy it. Brittany, my trainer, does not . “No fluid exchange,” she says. “You’re heating up, not cooling down.” So hydration? It’s not optional. It’s strategy . 🧬 Why Hydration Matters More When You Don’t Sweat Sweat cools the body . Without it, heat builds up faster. Fluid exchange regulates blood pressure and heart rate —especially important with a heart murmur and LBBB. Hydration supports endurance . Muscles need water to contract efficiently. Lungs need it to stay elastic. The brain needs it to stay sharp. 🥤 Grandma Ninja’s Hydration Rituals Pre-workout : I drink 8–12 oz of water 30–60 minutes before training. It’s like priming the pump. During training : I sip every 15–20 minutes, even if I don’t feel thirsty. Brittany watches my color, and I listen to her. Post-workout : I drink slowly over the next hour. Not a chug, but a steady refill. Daily baseli...

  When your lungs sound like a kettle on the boil and every attempt at exertion ends in a coughing fit, the dojo goes quiet. But Grandma Ninja doesn’t quit—she adapts. This week, under attack from an upper respiratory infection sliding into bronchtiis, I traded my weights for wall presses, my cardio for controlled exhales. No gym. No sweat. Just breath-aware micro-movements and biomechanical cunning. Isometric holds : Pressing palms into the wall, thighs into a pillow. Muscles fire. Breath stays calm. Seated resistance : Bands looped around ankles and wrists. No huffing, no puffing—just quiet strength. Mental rehearsal : I picture myself lifting, balancing, walking with precision. The body listens. Lymph flow rituals : Legs elevated, ankles circling, fingers tapping. Circulation without chaos. I’ve learned that strength isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s the stillness between coughs, the decision to move gently, the refusal to vanish. I’m not sidelined. I’m training in steal...

Diary of a Grandma Ninja: The Art of the Cooldown 🌙🧘‍♀️ After 90 minutes of cardio—dancing, lunging, shadow boxing, and swinging weights—I don’t collapse. I cool down . Because the end of class isn’t the end of training. It’s the beginning of recovery. 🧘‍♀️ What My Cooldown Should Look Like (But Doesn't) I walk it off : I should take a slow stroll around the room, arms loose, breath steady putting away balls and weights. I should let my heart rate drop like a feather, not a stone. Instead, I dash off to put the weights and balls away and gather up my waiting son. I am pretty sure, anyway, that my heart rate dropped to 50 with my last cardio step. It always does. I stretch with intention : I should do this -- calves, hamstrings, shoulders, hips, and hold each stretch for 20–30 seconds, breathing into the tight spots. Golly gee, I don't. If I paid a price for not doing it, you bet I would. But I don't pay a price, either, and my next task in my rather full life is alwa...