Thursday, March 18, 2010

A necessary evil

So, I joined the gym. It's two blocks from work and I get an employee discount, so there were really no more excuses for not incorporating any physical activity into my life. It's been a week, and I've gone 4 nights after work. I'm less lethargic when I get home. Heart rate and sweat help me accomplish a few more things around the house in the evenings before collapsing on the couch. I wish I didn't have to be indoors to be aerobic, or pedal and run in place while looking out the window, but I haven't made much space in my schedule for rock climbing adventures, kayaking trips, or mountain climbing. Those things seem like more legitimate forms of physical fitness to me (picture me on the cover of the next REI catalogue), but while I wait for the time and cash and inclination, I'm turning into a lump.

It feels so ridiculous to be crammed into a room with a bunch of strangers, all straining against resistance we impose on ourselves, voluntarily miserable in the name of good health. It reminds me of my friend in Africa balking at the notion of jogging because physical exertion was already required as the norm. Run for recreation? What a waste of time. He didn't have an ounce of body fat on him, but that was because he walked most places out of necessity. Plus, there were no Krispy Kreme donut places in his neighborhood. I guess I can't have it both ways: unlimited resources and unlimited metabolism.

On top of that, the weight room sounds like a sweat shop. At least how I imagine one would sound. Wheels turn and motors grind. Treadmills, stationery bikes, and ellipticals sound like a hundred sewing machines. Combined with the metal clanging of the free weights from the buff guys in the back of the room, it's all very intimidating. It's time to invest in an iPod. Cause that will help me lose weight, right?

Wish me luck.


  1. I will join you on the elliptical hamster wheel any ol' time!

  2. You go girl. :)
    I love the comment about your African friend. I think I remember that conversation.
    Love ya. Wish I was there to run side by side on the treadmill.