Much like Jesus made his triumphant return to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the Modern Philosopher used the day to make his triumphant return to the gym.
As I’ve stated numerous times on this blog, I really don’t like going to the gym.
I used to go religiously (see what I did there with this being Palm Sunday?), but I don’t like all the people, having to wait to use a machine, and running on a treadmill makes me feel like a very sweaty gerbil.
Or maybe a gym rat.
My battles with The Machines at my gym have been legendary. They get inside my head with their blinking numbers, heart rate measurements, and buttons that simply dare me to push them to push myself to go harder and faster.
They never seem impressed with my efforts, and for some stupid reason that I’m sure is related to my never having been able to win my stepmother’s approval, I would push myself harder and harder to impress The Machines and win their love.
I never got it, though, so I just took my show of sweaty manliness out to the streets. Running outside is much more pleasant, especially on a beautiful day. It just didn’t make sense to being inside running in air conditioning when I could be outside taking advantage of the gorgeous weather.
Plus, I actually feel like I’m accomplishing something when I run outdoors. I get from Point A to Point B, unlike on a treadmill where I remain anchored to the same spot for the duration of my run.
As I mentioned yesterday, I am turning over a new fitness leaf (from the fat side to the healthier side) and it was suggested that I switch things up from my constant runs.
I didn’t expect them to put down palm branches on the carpet for me, but some thunderous applause and a brass band playing the theme from Rocky would have both nice and appropriate given the occasion.
Since I am a champion, I was able to rise above this slight and make the most of my visit.
After yesterday’s first run of the year, I woke up with sore legs, but that wasn’t going to stop me.
I found a bike to my liking, and got down to business. It took a moment to remember how to get the program going and at what level I needed to pedal in order to get the best workout, but it eventually all came flooding back to me.
As did the sweat.
There was so much of it.
I like to think of it as my body’s crying at being forced to exercise again. Only these tears stink, and they seem to come from a bottomless reservoir.
I cranked up the music on my phone, kept an eye on my heart rate so I didn’t push myself too hard, but otherwise ignored the other numbers on The Machine.
In the end, I did a little over 9 miles in 40:00. It felt good.
Of course, now that it’s a couple of hours later and the lactic acid has had time to take up residence in my legs, I’m very sore. However, it’s the good kind of sore that reminds me that it’s well worth the effort to look after my health.
Hope you’re having a great Sunday. Have you done anything active today?
You know what makes an excellent workout? Following me on Pinterest! Think of all the calories you’d burn…