Saddle, Back in the
I went to the gym today for the first time in ages. The last time I went was well before my NARROW ESCAPE FROM DEATH, anyway. Yes, I exaggerate. The sympathy of my pains is abating and I am guilty of wringing every last bit of it out of this cruel, cruel world.
So. The gym. I have to scan my membership card at the door, and I think it's linked to their computer or something, because I'm sure they're notified of just how long it's been since last I've visited, and they give me that Superior Fitness Trainer Guilt Trip Look as I try to sneak past them. Calvin's pretty disgusted that I still have a membership. And I quote, "I don't think you should even have a membership until you start using the shit we have at home."
He's probably right; it all boils down to those darn Good Intentions. I'm chock full of 'em. They're just not stronger than my TV Watching Intentions, or my Nap Intentions, or my Ice Cream Sandwich Intentions.
BACK to the gym. I'm full of distractions today. I took it slowly - 20 minutes on the treadmill and some upper body stuff - no ab-concentrated stuff for a few more weeks, but in the meantime I can strengthen my lower back to help support my abs. My plan is Saturday, Sunday, and Monday at the gym, Wednesday and Thursday using the "shit at home", and Tuesday and Friday off. With judicious use of the balance board while watching TV, hopefully this routine will see me fit and strong to hit the slopes at Whistler this Christmas.
I'd much rather make it down the slopes upright on my skis (or snowboard - we're going to take a lesson to see if we like it) than sliding down on my backside waving to the folks on the ski lift above me. I'm speaking from experience, here.
I went to the gym today for the first time in ages. The last time I went was well before my NARROW ESCAPE FROM DEATH, anyway. Yes, I exaggerate. The sympathy of my pains is abating and I am guilty of wringing every last bit of it out of this cruel, cruel world.
So. The gym. I have to scan my membership card at the door, and I think it's linked to their computer or something, because I'm sure they're notified of just how long it's been since last I've visited, and they give me that Superior Fitness Trainer Guilt Trip Look as I try to sneak past them. Calvin's pretty disgusted that I still have a membership. And I quote, "I don't think you should even have a membership until you start using the shit we have at home."
He's probably right; it all boils down to those darn Good Intentions. I'm chock full of 'em. They're just not stronger than my TV Watching Intentions, or my Nap Intentions, or my Ice Cream Sandwich Intentions.
BACK to the gym. I'm full of distractions today. I took it slowly - 20 minutes on the treadmill and some upper body stuff - no ab-concentrated stuff for a few more weeks, but in the meantime I can strengthen my lower back to help support my abs. My plan is Saturday, Sunday, and Monday at the gym, Wednesday and Thursday using the "shit at home", and Tuesday and Friday off. With judicious use of the balance board while watching TV, hopefully this routine will see me fit and strong to hit the slopes at Whistler this Christmas.
I'd much rather make it down the slopes upright on my skis (or snowboard - we're going to take a lesson to see if we like it) than sliding down on my backside waving to the folks on the ski lift above me. I'm speaking from experience, here.
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