After my few months in the Park last summer, I'll guess at least four months maybe longer (I didn't keep track I just did it) I've waddled my big ass back into the gym.
Okay, it's not that big an ass, and I'm not waddling, but you've got to motivate yourself somehow.
I joined LA Fitness, because I told Sporty I would, and have been getting up at 6am to go and do an hour. The thing about it is, just like at the park, my 6-ish a.m. arrival makes me a latecomer. By the time I arrive the place is jumping. The treadmills are full, the bikes are in major use and the cycling class (which is overfull) is just reving into high gear. People are sweating, some folks already look ragged and I'm wandering in to do light work. I feel....light weight. In the bad way.
Now I remember why I don't like gyms. They make you competetive. Or rather, they make me competitive.
I get on the bike same time as you, I'm not getting off 'til you get off. I get on the treadmill same time as you, I'm in it until you pull up stakes.
Even if you're in obviously better shape than I am. Which is bad. I'm contemplating going to two-a-days to catch up. That would be working out at 6am and working out again after work. I know this because I had to take day after my first day, because I was too stubborn to admit that the smaller guy with the bodybuilder build could lift more than me, so I didn't change the weights on the pec machine. I cannot describe to you the sore.
I know I have obessive tendiencies. I'm trying to work through them.
Well, here we go again. Tom, my former walking partner and fast master, has chosen another spot to get his winter workout on, so I'm on my own.
Currently the workout is Bike for 20 minutes, Ellptical or whatever that machine is for 10 -15, then burnouts on the pec machine and lat machine. Add in my stretching on the front and you get almost an hour.
Just getting started.
Barkeep...let me a get a apple mango smoothie with a shot of beeswax. I'm getting in shape.