Yesterday I went to the 6th and Congress facility over my lunch hour, and met with Sean, a frighteningly fit twentysomething. He asked me what my goals were in joining. I giggled demurely. “Well, I walk five miles a day, six days a week, and I’ve been doing it since January 1st, and I bring my dog along and I write a blog about it, but it’s getting so hot that I thought….”
He smiled tightly.
“So, you’re maybe more interested in the cardio aspect?” “Um…yeah.
I mean, you don’t separate them out, do you? You can’t join just to use the treadmill,
right?”
I’m sure that Sean has been asked stupider questions in his
life, but this was an excellent runner-up.
He cut through the small talk, and turned to his computer. “Why don’t I just show you the different
rates and you can decide which plan works best for you.”
Let's just leave it at "I joined a gym." I'm embarrassed to admit how far afield I got from the "three month contract" I went in there seeking. I don't care. After four or five days of blahhh, I'm excited about walking again. I can 't tell you how dread-inducing an evening walk can seem when it's been over 100 that day.
Over the next days and weeks, I'll be expermenting with how to blend my regular walk with the treadmill, but here's what I did today: at 5:30 AM, walked Banks 1.3. After work, I walked to Gold's gym (.4), did 2.9 on the treadmill, and walked back to the office to retrieve my car (another .4). That's a little more piecemeal than I normally like, but I'm still feeling my way through this. Today was my first day in the gym, and I felt a little at sea. Don't know anyone, don't know the equipment, had to ask where the women's locker room was....I'll figure it out.
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