a little faith
I dragged my butt into the gym at 8 am on Sunday, without my date - she was taking a much deserved morning off - willing myself towards the Stairmaster, my nemesis.
I don't love the Stairmaster but I'm pretty sure it will love me back in time - it has potential - so I've committed to climbing floors a couple of times a week. (Blech. That's the face I make when I type these words. Blech.)
Without my witty friend to keep my mind off the clock, I had considered calling the whole thing off. My attention span is that of a gnat and without some accountability, I am liable to copout.
It didn't help that my TV options included: golf (yawn), Country Western videos (something about shutting down Detroit; happy stuff) or Naomi Watts in King Kong (the big bug part).
My fervor wavered. My safety became questionable as I slowed down a bit. Just how far could a Stairmaster fling, if a Stairmaster would fling me?
Then I looked around. I saw young woman racing on treadmills, older gentlemen sporting recent chest scars on stationary bikes. It was Sunday morning and we were all in this together.
I kept moving. I kept sweating. Maybe I've got it in me after all.
I don't love the Stairmaster but I'm pretty sure it will love me back in time - it has potential - so I've committed to climbing floors a couple of times a week. (Blech. That's the face I make when I type these words. Blech.)
Without my witty friend to keep my mind off the clock, I had considered calling the whole thing off. My attention span is that of a gnat and without some accountability, I am liable to copout.
It didn't help that my TV options included: golf (yawn), Country Western videos (something about shutting down Detroit; happy stuff) or Naomi Watts in King Kong (the big bug part).
My fervor wavered. My safety became questionable as I slowed down a bit. Just how far could a Stairmaster fling, if a Stairmaster would fling me?
Then I looked around. I saw young woman racing on treadmills, older gentlemen sporting recent chest scars on stationary bikes. It was Sunday morning and we were all in this together.
I kept moving. I kept sweating. Maybe I've got it in me after all.
Comments
do you not work out with music plugged into your ears? I cannot tolerate it without music. Music AND reading material. anything to distract myself from the trauma I am inflicing on my body.
-Stu
I hate cardio machines. They are Teh Debbil. I would much rather do JUST ABOUT ANYTHING (including being out of shape) than subject myself to torture of that flavor.
(Especially without an audiobook.)
PS I did it! I achieved Myself-ness while commenting!!
If I were home during the days again, I like to think I'd try to tough it out on the Stairmaster with you. To save you from crap TV. That's how much I love you. <3