Back to the gym

I guess for most people this wouldn't be particularly newsworthy. Or maybe it would. Being a card-carrying computer and math nerd, I've always felt profoundly out of place in any sort of physical activity setting, even as a kid. I suffered through every second of gym class, hated all kinds of sports, and never could figure out how any of those weird torture devices in the exercise room were supposed to work. Every kid's sports movie you've ever seen has the one awkard kid who carries a calculator everywhere, wears thick-framed glasses, gets straight A's in every subject but gym, and he can't even hold on to a ball, much less throw it straight. That was me, except I never wore glasses. Nor did I have any interest in sports or exercise, I was perfectly willing to let other segments of the population take care of that activity.

And that was my stand on the whole exercise issue until 2004 when Norah convinced me that we really needed to join a gym. We got a personal training package along with our new member startups so we could figure out what exactly we were doing. For a while, I was doing pretty well with it. I learned what parts of the body the various torture devices were designed to be used on. I learned about heart rate and warm up and cool down. I learned that I had these things called "muscles" and a few suggestions about stretching them. Believe it or not, I actually do have some muscles... somewhere. They certainly hurt after I've subjected myself to the torture devices for a while.

After I had used up my allotment of personal training sessions, I didn't want to pay for an extension, so I decided I knew enough to try it on my own without injuring myself (much). I actually kept up with it fairly well for a while. Then, as usually happens with these things, I sort of stopped going. The excuses were too easy to find, and I still think going to the gym is one of the least pleasant experiences there is, short of going to the dentist. But, darn it, the gym is good for me.

I always had good intentions of going over. It's been a recurring event on my calendar every week for the last eight months. But I was always too busy, didn't have time, was late for work, didn't have the energy, had too much knee pain, and so on.

This morning I finally got fed up with the excuses. I've realized that our base camp in Colorado is at about 7500 feet above sea level, and a lot of the 4x4 trails I've been looking at are up around 14,000 feet. Unless I want to pass out, I had better get my heart and lungs working at something over two percent of their capacity. I know it's only seven weeks until we leave, and I probably won't be able to get that much accomplished in that time. The thought does motivate me to get myself over there, so I'm sticking with it. So, despite the fact that I was still too busy, didn't have time, was late for work, didn't have the energy, and still had some amount of knee pain, I just drove myself over and did some exercise. And I didn't get in to work until almost 11:00. Fortunately for me I have a pretty cushy desk job where it doesn't matter too much if I drag in at that time and stay until 7:30 to make up for it. Mostly what the boss cares about is how many hours I work in a week, not so much about what time of day I work them. Good thing.

What I actually accomplished today in terms of strength training or cardiovascular fitness probably adds up to "not much". I think today was more about breaking through the psychological barriers I've put in my own way. Since I haven't been in a long time, I didn't want to overdo it and strain something. I did, however, manage to actually see the inside of the gym, I got myself on an exercise bike, picked up a couple of heavy objects and set them back down again, got my muscles stretched out a bit, and knocked some of the rust off of my joints.

So why am I bothering to talk so much about this? Public accountability. I am now serving notice to the entire Intahrnehtwebbahn that I intend to get my butt off the couch and over to the gym at least twice per week. Maybe even three times. I'll post here whenever I manage to do so. Knowing there's a record of my efforts will help me keep myself in gear.

I hope.