I have taken the exercise part of my New Year's resolution seriously, but unfortunately not the eating well part. My legs are so tired I think they might fall off, and I am now on the verge of obsessing about becoming too muscular, but still the ice cream calls to me. My plan for future self control while depriving the young ones goes something like "All ice creamin my house must contain cookie or brownie fragments so Mommy won't eat it" I know, it seems lame to the rest of the world, but it is either that or "No ice cream in the house" and I am just not that cruel.
One frustrating aspect of being a gym goer is the first 6 weeks of the year. Seriously, the resolutioners are there full force, they are taking the good machines, or worse, pretending they know what they are doing while actually doing non-exercises on the equipment I want to use, and also, the obsessors are out full force too. This week alone I have seen not one but two different women on the exercise bike while simultaneously doing some upper body work with dumb bells. Uh, hello? Dumb bells on the bike? Where are the exercise cops when you need them.
On a more positive note I saw a guy wearing head to toe hiking gear (hat too) including a loaded back pack while climbing stairs on one of the old fashioned stair machines that is a mini down escalator that you have to climb up. After spotting mountain dude I shot Bubbles a look and she explained to me that the guy was preparing for a real hike that way. Awesome!
On a less positive note here, I went to the Y this morning, and after a frustrating futile attempt (due to all the resolutioners) at snagging a treadmill, decided to approach my old nemesis the arc trainer. Fifteen minutes into arc training I looked down at the floor between my wildly swinging legs and spotted a mouse poo. Horrified I began glancing into the unwashed recesses of the fitness room, and people, let's just say the Y has a mouse problem. Fearing for the safety of my lungs, having only completed half of my 40 minute goal, and having read Boops' entry about mice and the freaking hantavirus, I had to make a move. I was stirring up the air directly above the possible source of plague and I wasn't feeling good about it. I saw an (as in "a singular") empty treadmill, but soon discovered it was the one whose belt is so loose that it actually buckles upwards. Knowing that my tired feet wouldn't jump the belt hurdle every time it came around I opted instead for the stationary bike. I am so not into the idea of being the patron who falls off the treadmill. I found a bike, chose a program, set myself up and spent the next 20 minutes wishing all the resolutioners would go home, and trying to figure out how I am going to fit all the exercise I think I should do into my schedule, you know, long term, as in realistically. I ended up doing 40 minutes of something today, but it wasn't walk/running and now I am all bummed.
Also, I am so tired that I completely forgot what the whole point of this post was supposed to be. Hmmm.
I am just going to limp (feet/legs=not happy) off to bed now, and hope that I can skip the weird dreams tonight.
In reading your post, I have to comment that you seem to be both a resolutioner and an obsessor. But I must thank you for reminding me why I don't join a gym. Besides I resolved to spend less time on the computer and not check Clickmom 10 times a day and I haven't keep them (I am a resolution breaker AND an obsessor, yikes!)
Posted by: pov-z | January 24, 2007 at 10:47 AM