I went to the gym today. Kind of a big deal for me as a runner person. Runner people often just run and do not go to the gym. Why? Because the gym! Just no thank you. There aren’t trees and dogs and sunsets and sunrises and runner people friends and sudden rainstorms and Canadian geese and blue herons and cherry blossoms and blue skies and clouds and starry nights or full moons and oceans in a gym.
But on account of my bum knee keeping me off the seawall, a physio appointment over one week away, and the mild desire to have mini-muffin top instead of a regular muffin top, I went to the gym. For like over an hour.
I’m following the “REDO YOU! SUPER PLAN… IN 9 WEEKS!”, emphasis is not mine, not even the exclamation marks(!) Those are totally owned by whomever edited the shit out of the magazine piece.
In the gym, I met an American person who seems to be a Cavs fan, which is so… American. I explained the finer details of our cable network guide to him and how it’s really a guessing game as to what channel you will ultimately find an NBA game on, because this is Canada, and the cable companies [this shouldn’t even be plural because, like, there’s not really any choice and.. that’s another blog post] hate us all.
So anyway, tonight was PHASE 1 – chest, shoulders, biceps. After 25 minutes of cardio on some kind of crossramp(?) machine (let’s be more creative fitness-industry-people who name things) I hoisted dumbbells up, down and all around until my arms were vibrating. Not unlike a DQ Blizzard machine. Strawberry Cheesequake, yes?!
And you know what? It was a mildly enjoyable experience and I expect to be in some kind of unbearable upper body pain by this time tomorrow. I can’t wait to be just a runner person again.