There are a hundred great reasons to go to the gym. Best of all is increased health, which is mostly seen in the physical, but is evident to the gym goer in emotional and mental gains as well.
Today wasn't a great day at work. Having to face the music in certain aspects can be stressful, and can emotionally drain an otherwise good and productive shift. For me, it kills the motivation to do anything beneficial for myself. Yes, there are lifelong issues there... So thinking about a trip to the gym at midnight wasn't terribly exhilarating. But I went anyways. It does help having a gym rat partner, and my wife was ready to go, so I couldn't just say no. Besides, all these motivating blogs, and I just fall apart because my boss gets mad at me.
Treadmill for ten minutes. Squats. Bench. Curls. Reverse curls. Lat Pulldowns. It wasn't until I was on the rowing machine that I realized work had become a forgotten memory. At least for the moment. Exercising, focusing on movement, isolated muscle control, breathing, counting the slow reps... it all creates a moment oblivious to what is happening anywhere else, anytime else.
I was drowning in a fountain of sweat, muscles convulsing in agonizing oblivion, and it was beautiful.
At least I'll have bulging muscles while I stand there tomorrow, again repeating, "Yes Sir. No Sir. Thank You, Sir. I understand, Sir."
Sunday, July 22, 2018
Monday, July 16, 2018
Burning the Midnight Oil
I haven't been on the unicycle in two weeks. Shame on me. Two weeks ago, it was 100 degrees outside. Every day. I can handle heat, but strenuous exercise in that stuff is beyond ridiculous. I found plenty to do inside.
Then last week, things changed, and it all started with a large pizza. We've been getting fresh vegetables from a CSA, so my wife bought a large cheese pizza, cut up fresh veggies, sprinkled on some fresh herbs, and oh my!! Well, after the pizza there may have been some apple pie. And maybe a little ice cream. I don't remember, it all gets a little fuzzy sometime during the fourth piece of pizza. Did I mention the wine?
This was a heartburn night. I knew it was coming. One of those awful "wake up in the middle of the night with the throat on fire" nights. Every commercial ever made about food on the attack could have been rolled up into this one evening of delectable misery. Then the bulb just came on. A great moment when the idea flashes so bright it sunburns the inside of your skull. It was ten thirty at night. I looked at my wife and said, "Let's go the gym". Planet Fitness is open twenty four hours. I knew I needed to digest what I had crammed down my gullet. Going for a walk was not an option. This was an exercise emergency! She gave the idea a quick once over, and agreed.
The gym wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been during the late mornings when I am freshly awake. Since I work second shift, I don't set an alarm, I just get up when I wake up. This timing depends on how tired I am when I get home at night, and how many episodes of "Fixer Upper" I can cram into one late night sitting. Going in the mornings has not been consistent. Going at night was certainly more relaxed. We treadmilled for a bit. She went on the bike, and I did other exercises, ending with some rope pulling. On my way out, I grabbed an overhead bar and just hung, giving myself over to everything gravity could do in a single moment. The ensuing belch turned a lot of heads, and I slept like a baby.
It later occurred to me that going to the gym at night was an option. We like to discuss all options, no matter how ridiculous they sound, because even if we discard the idea, we glean a lot from out of the box thinking. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. If I go to the gym when I get off work, the timing is always consistent. I can go every other night for five nights, and get three nights of workouts done with two nights between for rest. I haven't been tired coming home. I usually sit up and watch television for an hour or two anyways. And snack. Hrmmm.
Last week I made two nights. Last night was my first night this week, with no interruptions in sight for the next two workouts. I gotta tell ya, I love it. I could count the number of people on two hands. Atmosphere was relaxed. Equipment was available. During the drive from work to the gym I was pumped, psyched, and ready to decimate. Which I did.
I had to adapt my mindset to a new idea, and I love it. This works.
P.S. I have a great doctor. He's really fit, but he's a twig. He always questions why I need extra protein. He's about to find out.
Then last week, things changed, and it all started with a large pizza. We've been getting fresh vegetables from a CSA, so my wife bought a large cheese pizza, cut up fresh veggies, sprinkled on some fresh herbs, and oh my!! Well, after the pizza there may have been some apple pie. And maybe a little ice cream. I don't remember, it all gets a little fuzzy sometime during the fourth piece of pizza. Did I mention the wine?
This was a heartburn night. I knew it was coming. One of those awful "wake up in the middle of the night with the throat on fire" nights. Every commercial ever made about food on the attack could have been rolled up into this one evening of delectable misery. Then the bulb just came on. A great moment when the idea flashes so bright it sunburns the inside of your skull. It was ten thirty at night. I looked at my wife and said, "Let's go the gym". Planet Fitness is open twenty four hours. I knew I needed to digest what I had crammed down my gullet. Going for a walk was not an option. This was an exercise emergency! She gave the idea a quick once over, and agreed.
The gym wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been during the late mornings when I am freshly awake. Since I work second shift, I don't set an alarm, I just get up when I wake up. This timing depends on how tired I am when I get home at night, and how many episodes of "Fixer Upper" I can cram into one late night sitting. Going in the mornings has not been consistent. Going at night was certainly more relaxed. We treadmilled for a bit. She went on the bike, and I did other exercises, ending with some rope pulling. On my way out, I grabbed an overhead bar and just hung, giving myself over to everything gravity could do in a single moment. The ensuing belch turned a lot of heads, and I slept like a baby.
It later occurred to me that going to the gym at night was an option. We like to discuss all options, no matter how ridiculous they sound, because even if we discard the idea, we glean a lot from out of the box thinking. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. If I go to the gym when I get off work, the timing is always consistent. I can go every other night for five nights, and get three nights of workouts done with two nights between for rest. I haven't been tired coming home. I usually sit up and watch television for an hour or two anyways. And snack. Hrmmm.
Last week I made two nights. Last night was my first night this week, with no interruptions in sight for the next two workouts. I gotta tell ya, I love it. I could count the number of people on two hands. Atmosphere was relaxed. Equipment was available. During the drive from work to the gym I was pumped, psyched, and ready to decimate. Which I did.
I had to adapt my mindset to a new idea, and I love it. This works.
P.S. I have a great doctor. He's really fit, but he's a twig. He always questions why I need extra protein. He's about to find out.
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